.j.iijflHEcninciiiiiiii^iirT'j'.'w 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


HEART    MELODIES 


HEART   MELODIES 

EDITED   BY 

MARY   ALLETTE   AYER 

EDITOR   OF   "  DAILY  CHEER  YEAR  BOOK "   AND 
"  THE  JOYS   OF   FRIENDSHIP  " 


Courage,  Heart,  as  the  shadows  creep, 
Shift  your  burden,  and  heed  it  not  — 

After  the  night  is  noon ; 
After  thejo7irney,  rest ; 

For  the  ivind  will  wake  and  the  stars  be  bright, 
And  the  heart  that  sings  is  blest ! 

—  Grace  Duffield  Goodwin. 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,   LEE   &   SHEPARD    CO. 


Published  April,  1907. 


Copyright,  1907, 
By  LOTHROP,  lee  &  SHEPARD  CO. 


All  rights  reserved. 


Heart  Melodies. 


NotSaaotJ  ^reaa 

J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 

Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


6331 


.   .    .    Go,  trembling  song. 
And  stay  not  long  ;  oh,  stay  not  long  ; 
Thou'rt  only  a  gray  and  sober  dove. 
But  thine  eye  is  faith,  and  thy  wing  is  love. 

—  Sidney  Lanier. 


62GM9 


Acknowledgments 

The  editor  wishes  to  thank  most  cordially  the 
authors  who  have  so  kindly  permitted  the  use 
of  their  poems,  and  the  publishers  for  permission 
to  use  copyrighted  material;  to  Houghton,  Mifflin 
&  Co.  for  "  The  Hymn  of  Trust  "  and  "  The 
Sun-Day  Hymn,"  by  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes ; 
to  Stephen  J.  Herben,  Charles  W.  Parkhurst,  John 
T.  McFarland,  for  selections  from  the  Epworth 
Herald^  Zions  Herald^  and  the  Classmate ;  to  Luella 
Clark  for  poems,  "  In  the  Rain,"  "  A  Little 
While,"  and  "  Foreshadowings  "  ;  to  H.  M.  Bar- 
bour for  "To-day,"  "The  Price,"  and  other 
poems  by  Mary  Frances  Butts  ;  to  Jennie  Eliza- 
beth Gates  for  "  A  Song  of  Life,"  and  to  all 
others  who  have  so  kindly  aided  in  any  way  in 
the  compilation  of  this  little  volume. 

M.  A.  A. 

3  Tenth  Avenue,  Haverhill,  Mass. 


Vll 


Our  life  is  a  keyboard.  The  Master's 
fingers  will  sweep  over  it,  and  a  weary  world 
will  catch  notes  of  melody  as  we  pass  along. 
The  life  that  is  in  tune  with  God  is  keyed  to 
the  note  of  love. 

—  J.  R.  Miller. 


HEART    MELODIES 


LIFE'S   MELODY 

/^UR  lives  are  songs  ; 
God  writes  the  words, 

And  we  set  them  to  music  at  leisure ; 
And  the  song  is  sad,  or  the  song  is  glad, 

As  we  choose  to  fashion  the  measure. 

We  must  write  the  song. 
Whatever  the  words. 

Whatever  the  rhyme  or  meter. 
And  if  it  is  sad  we  must  make  it  glad. 

And  if  sweet  we  must  make  it  sweeter. 

—  Gibbon. 

'  I  ^HE  inner  side  of  every  cloud 

Is  bright  and  shining, 
I  therefore  turn  my  clouds  about, 
And  always  wear  them  inside  out 
To  show  the  lining. 

—  Ella  Fowler  Felkin. 


"Thou   shall  compass  me  about  with   songs  of  deliverance."  — 
Psalm  32  :  7. 

Al^HY  ^^  songs  of  deliverance"?  "Why  not 
"deliverance"  itself?  Because  the  best 
way  to  deliver  a  man  from  calamity  is  to  put  a 
song  in  his  heart.  There  are  some  vi^ho  sink 
under  their  calamity,  and  there  are  some  vi^ho 
swim  through  it.  I  think  you  will  find  that  the 
difference  between  these  lies  in  the  comparative 
amount  of  their  previous  cheer.  The  balance 
generally  turns  on  the  hearing  or  not  hearing  of 
yesterday's  song.  They  who  have  the  song  al- 
ready in  their  heart  pass  over  the  Red  Sea ;  they 
who  have  heard  no  previous  music  are  submerged 
in  the  wave.  —  George  Matheson. 


COMETIMES  the  storm  is  dark  above. 

Sometimes  the  rain  is  chilling ; 
And  not  a  bird  in  all  the  tree 
His  merry  note  is  trilling ; 
Yet  in  spite  of  dreary  weather, 
Sing  my  heart  and  I  together : 
"  Clouds  may  hide  the  radiant  skies, 
Yet  the  sunshine  never  dies !  " 

—  Emily  Huntington  Miller. 

4 


TF  your  religion  does  not  make  you  cheerful,  you 
have  not  the  right  sort.      —  Epworth  Herald. 

'T~'HERE  is  ever  a  song  somewhere,  my  dear, 
There  is  ever  a  something  sings  alway  — 
There's  the  song  of  the  lark  when  the  skies  are 
clear. 

And  a  song  of  the  thrush  when  the  skies  are  gray. 
The  sunshine  showers  across  the  grain. 

And  the  bluebird  trills  in  the  orchard  tree ; 
And  in  and  out  when  the  eaves  drip  rain, 

The  swallows  are  twittering  ceaselessly. 
There  is  ever  a  song  somewhere,  my  dear, 

Be  the  skies  above  or  dark  or  fair, 
There  is  ever  a  song  that  our  hearts  may  hear  — 
There  is  ever  a  song  somewhere,  my  dear  — 

There  is  ever  a  song  somewhere  ! 

—  James  IVhitcomb  Riley. 


OING  on,  O  redbreast,  thy  brave  strain  ; 

Sing  on  till  sunshine  conquer  rain. 
Till  gladness  conquer  all  thy  pain. 

—  Grace  L.  Robinson. 

T  WILL  be  free  as  the  rushing  air, 
And  sing  of  sunshine  everywhere  ! 

—  L.  Maria  Child. 

5 


OING  me  a  song  to-day, 

For  my  heart  beats  high ; 
There  is  never  a  film  of  cloud 

In  my  arching  sky ; 
Sing  me  a  song  that  shall  voice  my  gladness, 
A  song  that  has  never  a  note  of  sadness. 

Sing  me  a  song  to-day. 

For  my  heart  beats  low ; 
And  shadovi^s  are  over  the  way 

That  I  must  go  ; 
Sing  me  a  song  to  bring  back  gladness, 
And  give  me  courage  and  cure  my  sadness. 

Sing  me  a  song  to-day. 

Always  a  song  of  cheer, 
Fitting  if  I  am  glad, 

Or,  faint  with  fear, 
The  world  has  many  a  dirge  of  sadness. 
But  all  too  few  are  its  songs  of  gladness. 

—  E.  A.  Lente. 

"\1  7E  would  never  know  the  gladness 
Of  the  joytime  but  the  sadness. 
Though  the  winter  blasts  the  roses. 
Summer  comes  and  them  discloses. 
Cheer  up  ! 
—  Henry  Waldorf  Francis. 
6 


A  FTER  all,  it  is   not  what    is  around   us,   but 
what  is  in  us;  not  what  we  have,  but  what  we 
are,  that  makes  us  really  happy.  —  Geikie. 


IV  AY  soul,  thou  art  receiving  a  music  lesson  from 
^  thy  Father.  Thou  art  being  educated  for 
the  choir  invisible.  There  are  parts  of  the  sym- 
phony that  none  can  take  but  thee.  There  are 
chords  too  minor  for  the  angels.  There  may  be 
heights  in  the  symphony  which  are  beyond  thy 
scale  —  heights  which  the  angels  alone  can  reach. 
But  there  are  depths  which  belong  to  thee^  and  can 
only  be  touched  by  thee.  Thy  Father  is  training 
thee  for  the  part  the  angels  cannot  sing ;  and  the 
school  is  sorrow.  I  have  heard  men  say  that  He 
sends  thy  sorrow  to  prove  thee  ;  nay,  He  sends  thy 
sorrow  to  educate  thee,  to  train  thee  for  the  choir 
invisible.  In  the  night  He  is  preparing  thy  song. 
In  the  valley  He  is  tuning  thy  voice.  In  the  cloud 
He  is  deepening  thy  chords.  In  the  storm  He  is 
enriching  thy  pathos.  In  the  rain  He  is  sweeten- 
ing thy  melody.  In  the  cold  He  is  moulding  thine 
expression.  In  the  transition  from  hope  to  fear 
He  is  perfecting  thy   lights  and   shades.      Despise 

7 


not    thy  school   of  sorrow,    O  my  soul !      It  will 
give  thee  a  unique  part  in  the  universal  song. 
—  Rev.  George  Matheson  in  "  Zion's  Herald" 


\^  EEP  a  smile  on  your  lips  ;  it  is  better 

To  hopefully,  joyfully  try 
For  the  end  you  would  gain  than  to  fetter 

Your  life  with  a  moan  and  a  sigh. 
There  are  clouds  in  the  firmament  ever 

The  beauty  of  heaven  to  mar, 
Yet  night  so  profound  there  is  never, 
But  somewhere  is  shining  a  star. 

— Nixon  Waterman. 


A    SONG  is  such  a  little  thing ; 

And  yet  what  joy  it  is  to  sing  ! 
In  hours  of  toil  it  gives  me  zest, 
And  when  at  eve  I  long  for  rest ; 
When  I  come  home  along  the  bars. 

And  in  the  fold  I  hear  the  bell. 
As  Night,  the  shepherd,  herds  his  stars, 
I  sing  my  song  and  all  is  well. 

—  Paul  Lawrence  Dunbar. 
8 


t'^  OD  sent  his  Singers  upon  earth 
^■'^    With  songs  of  sadness  and  of  mirth, 
That  they  might  touch  the  hearts  of  men, 
And  bring  them  back  to  heaven  again. 

—  Henry  TV.  Longfellow. 

IV  A  Y  Father,  compass  me  with  Thy  songs  !  It 
is  not  the  song  after  the  battle  that  I  ask ; 
my  own  heart  will  give  me  these.  What  I  need 
is  a  song  before  the  battle.  I  can  easily  get  the 
song  of  Moses ;  what  I  require  is  the  song  of 
the  Lamb.  The  song  of  Moses  came  after  the 
triumph ;  it  was  the  pasan  of  victory.  But  the 
song  of  the  Lamb  is  previous  to  the  conflict. 
It  was  sung  ere  Gethsemane  was  entered.  It  pre- 
ceded the  hour  of  sacrifice.  Before  the  sweat- 
drops  fell,  before  the  struggle  woke,  before  the 
perils  of  the  night  arose.  Thou  didst  send  to  Jesus 
Thy  voice  from  heaven  —  Thy  promise  of  glory. 
Thou  didst  compass  Him  before  the  battle  with 
songs  of  deliverance.  He  took  a  light  with  Him 
into  the  valley.  Not  joyless  did  He  meet  the  foe. 
He  stood  by  the  warm  fire  ere  He  went  out  into 
the  cold.  He  felt  the  pressure  of  a  hand  ere  He 
faced  the  silence.  Thy  song  was  with  Him  in 
the  night ;  it  waited  not  for  morning.      The  flower 

9 


got  into  the  heart  earlier  than  the  thorn,  and  it 
deadened  the  thorn.  Be  mine  this  song  of  the 
Lamb  —  this  song  before  deliverance  !  The  song 
of  Moses  can  be  delayed  till  the  conflict  is  over ! 
but  I  cannot  dispense  with  that  other  music  —  the 
song  before  the  sacrifice  —  the  song  of  the  Lamb. 
—  George  Math  e  son  in  "  Zions  Her  aid  J'' 

T  EARN  to  keep  the  song  going  in  your  life,  no 
matter  what  has  happened.  Sometimes,  per- 
haps, it  may  have  a  more  exultant  ring  to  it  because 
of  the  personal  pain  you  are  forgetting  —  because 
the  "chord  of  self"  has  "  passed  in  music  out  of 
sight."  Yet  it  is  only  another  illustration  of  the 
promise  that  he  that  loseth,  findeth. 

—  Anna  Burnham  Bryant. 

TF  we  could  push  ajar  the  gates  of  life. 

And  stand  within,  and  all  God's  workings  see, 
We  could  interpret  all  the  doubt  and  strife. 
And  for  each  mystery  could  find  a  key  ! 

But  not  to-day.      Then  be  content,  poor  heart ! 

God's  plans  like  lilies  pure  and  white  unfold  ; 
We  must  not  tear  the  close-shut  leaves  apart ; 

Time  will  reveal  the  calyxes  of  gold. 

10 


And  if,  through  patient  toil,  we  reach  the  land 
Where  tired  feet,  with  sandals  loosed,  may  rest. 

When  we  shall  clearly  see  and  understand, 

I  think  that  we  will  say,  "  God  knew  thee  best." 

—  May  Riley  Smith. 

KEEP   SINGING 

r^ON'T  let  the  song  go  out  of  your  life ; 

Though  it  chance  sometimes  to  flow 
In  a  minor  strain  —  it  will  blend  again 
With  the  major  tone,  you  know. 

Don't  let  the  song  go  out  of  your  life; 

Though  your  voice  may  have  lost  its  trill, 
Though  the  tremulous  note  should  die  in  the  throat, 

Let  it  sing  in  your  spirit  still. 

There  is  never  a  pain  that  hides  not  some  gain. 

And  never  a  cup  of  rue 
So  bitter  the  sup,  but  what  in  the  cup 

Lurks  a  measure  of  sweetness  too. 

Then  do  not  despond,  and  say  that  the  fond. 

Sweet  songs  of  your  life  have  flown. 

For  if  ever  you  knew  a  song  that  was  true, 

Its  music  is  still  your  own. 

—  Kate  R.  Stiles. 

II 


COME  day  we  shall  know  that  every  sorrow  in 
our  lives   held  a  secret  of  joy  for  us.     Only 
in  entire  surrender  and  devotion  to  Christ  can  we 
learn  the  new  song.  —  J-  ^-  Miller. 


THE   TWO   SINGERS 

A    SINGER  sang  a  song  of  tears, 

And  the  great  world  heard  and  wept, 
For  he  sang  of  the  sorrows  of  fleeting  years, 
And  the  hopes  which  the  dead  past  kept ; 
And  souls  in  anguish  their  burdens  bore, 
And  the  world  was  sadder  than  ever  before. 

A  singer  sang  a  song  of  cheer. 

And  the  great  world  listened  and  smiled, 
For  he  sang  of  the  love  of  a  Father  dear, 

And  the  trust  of  a  Httle  child ; 
And  souls  that  before  had  forgotten  to  pray, 
Looked  up  and  went  singing  along  their  way. 

—  Jnon. 

TF  your  cup  is  small,  fill  it  to  the  brim.     Make 
the    most    of    your    opportunities,    of    honest 
work,  and  pure  pleasure. 

—  Henry  van  Dyke. 
12 


A    SONG  welled  up  in  the  singer's  heart 
Like  a  song  in  the  throat  of  a  bird, 
And  loud  he  sang,  and  far  it  rang. 

For  his  heart  was  strangely  stirred  ; 
And  he  sang  for  the  very  joy  of  song. 
With  no  thought  of  one  who  heard. 

Within  the  listener's  wayward  soul 

A  heavenly  patience  grew  ; 
He  fared  on  the  way  a  benison 

On  the  singer,  who  never  knew 
How  a  careless  song  of  an  idle  hour 

Has  shaped  a  life  anew. 

—  Jlice  TV.  Brotherton. 


'X'HE  day  may  be  long,  but  the  morning 

Will  rise  on  the  darkest  night ; 
The  pilgrimage  painful,  but  Beulah 
Waits  with  its  fields  of  light. 

And  he  who  sits  in  the  shadow 

Shall  surely  the  sunshine  see ; 
And  to  all  who  in    patience  suffer. 

Sweet,  sweet  will  the  recompense  be. 

—  Luella  Clark. 

13 


A    SONG  of  faith  and  hope  and  cheer; 

A  song  of  labor,  peace,  and  love ; 
A  song  of  every  grace  that  makes 
Our  earth  below  like  heaven  above. 

Who  maketh  life  a  song,  doth  that 

God  loveth  best.       _  j^^„  ^^ -^^  Chadwick. 


W 


""ILL  winter  never  be  over  ? 
Will  the  dark  days  never  go  ? 
Must  the  buttercup  and  the  clover 
Be  always  hid  under  the  snow  ? 


Ah,  lend  me  your  little  ear,  love, 

Hark,  'tis  a  beautiful  thing  : 
The  weariest  month  of  the  year,  love, 

Is  shortest  and  nearest  the  spring. 

—  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney. 

"  nPHERE   is   no  music  in  a  rest,  but  there  is 

the  making  of  music  in  it."  In  our' 
whole  life-melody  the  music  is  broken  off  here 
and  there  by  "  rests,"  and  we  foolishly  think  we 
have  come  to  the  end  of  the  time.  God  sends  a 
time  of  forced  leisure,  sickness,  disappointed  plans, 
frustrated  efforts,  and  makes  a  sudden  pause  in  the 

14 


choral  hymn  of  our  lives,  and  we  lament  that  our 
voices  must  be  silent  and  our  part  missing  in  the 
music  which  ever  goes  up  to  the  ear  of  the  Creator. 

How  does  the  musician  read  the  rest  ?  See  him 
beat  the  time  with  unvarying  count  and  catch  up 
the  next  note  true  and  steady,  as  if  no  breaking 
place  had  come  in  between. 

Not  without  design  does  God  write  the  music 
of  our  lives.  Be  it  ours  to  learn  the  time,  and 
not  be  dismayed  at  the  "  rests."  They  are  not  to 
be  slurred  over,  not  to  be  omitted,  not  to  destroy 
the  melody,  not  to  change  the  key-note.  If  we 
look  up,  God  Himself  will  beat  the  time  for  us. 
With  the  eye  on  Him,  we  shall  strike  the  next 
note  full  and  clear.  If  we  say  sadly  to  ourselves, 
"  There  is  no  music  in  a  rest,"  let  us  not  forget 
"  there  is  the  making  of  music  in  it."  The  mak- 
ing of  music  is  often  a  slow  and  painful  process  in 
this  life.  How  patiently  God  works  to  teach  us  ! 
How  long  He  waits  for  us  to  learn  the  lesson  ! 

—  yohn  Ruskin. 

r\    GIFT  of  God  !   O  perfect  day. 

Wherein  shall  no  man  work,  but  play. 
Wherein  it  is  enough  for  me 
Not  to  be  doing,  but  to  be. 

^5 


Through  every  fibre  of  my  brain, 
Through  every  nerve,  through  every  vein 
I  feel  the  electric  thrill,  the  touch 
Of  life,  that  seems  almost  too  much. 
I  hear  the  wind  among  the  trees 
Playing  celestial  symphonies ; 
I  see  the  branches  downward  bent. 
Like  keys  of  some  great  instrument. 

—  Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

T  HEAR  a  little  twitter  and  a  song  — 

(Sharp's  the  wind ;  the  ground's  all  white  with 
snow), — 
There  comes  this  cheery  little  thought  along : 
"Soon  shall  we  see  spring's  leaves  and  flow'rs 
grow." 
I  hear  a  little  word  of  faith  and  love. 

(Alone,  at  night,  —  stumbling  on  my  way)  — 
Then  comes  a  holy  message  from  above, 

"  Walk  on  !   God's  with  thee  night  and  day." 

—  Gertrude  Plass. 

HTHEN  falter  not,  but  bear,  beloved,  nor  pray 
the    Father   that  He  send  you  the  angel  of 
ease,  but  the  angel  of  strength. 

—  Rose  Pendleton  Chiles. 
i6 


OEEK  to  cultivate  a  buoyant,  joyous  sense  of 
the  crowded  kindnesses  of  God  in  your  daily 
life.  —  Alexander  Maclaran. 

T   IKE  the  song  of  the  lark  in  the  first  days  of 
spring 

Is  the  word  from  your  heart,  with  love  in  its  ring. 

Like  the  scent  of  a  rose  in  the  sweet  month  of 
June 

Is  your  cheer-giving  thought  put  in  words  oppor- 
tune. 

Like  a   cup   of   cold  water,  clear,  sparkling,  and 
fresh, 

Are  your  words  of  good  cheer  or  of  comfort  and 
rest. 
The  world  is  aweary. 
Be  loving  and  cheery. 

Send   forth   the   good  words   that  will    strengthen 
and  bless.  —  Helen  Van- Anderson. 


TESUS  was  a  rejoicing  man.  Although  a  "  man 
^  of  sorrows,"  the  deep  undertone  of  His  life, 
never  once  failing,  was  gladness.  Joy  is  set  down 
as  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  a  fruit  which 
should  be  found  on  every  branch  of  the  great  vine. 

17 


St.  Paul  exhorted  his  friends  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord. 
There  are  almost  countless  incitements  to  glad- 
ness.    We  are  to  live  a  songful  life. 

—  Rev.  J.  R.  Miller. 

nPHERE  is  a  story  of  an  old-time  king  who  com- 
manded that  a  palace  be  built  for  him  to  the 
sound  of  music ;  and  richly  was  his  wisdom  re- 
warded, for  when  the  palace  was  done  it  was  found 
to  be  the  most  perfectly  constructed  and  beautiful 
in  the  world.  The  builders  had  unconsciously 
wrought  the  music  into  their  work,  and  made  it 
a  finer  kind  of  work  than  had  been  known  before. 
So  it  is  with  human  lives.  They  are  infinitely 
better  built  when  the  builders  have  something  to 
inspire  and  uplift  them,  something  to  kindle  mind 
and  soul,  and  lift  them  above  petty  and  common- 
place thoughts  and  feelings.  It  is  just  this  refining 
and  exalting  influence  that  religion  brings  to  the 
average  man  and  woman.  Religion  is  the  music 
of  the  common  life,  and  there  is  nothing  to  com- 
pare with  it  in  the  way  of  a  refining  and  spiritu- 
alizing influence.  The  millions  upon  millions 
of  life-builders  who  are  building  characters  to  the 
music  of  religion,  would  deteriorate  into  coarse- 
ness, indifference,  incapacity,  without  the  constant 

i8 


uplift  and  joy  and  moral  betterment  that  come  to 
them  out  of  their  beliefs.  Wise  was  the  king  of 
old  who  built  his  palace  to  music,  and  wise  are 
they  who  refine  and  strengthen  and  beautify  the 
structure  of  life  by  building  the  music  of  religion 
into  it !  —  Tjion  s  Herald. 


"  'yHERE'S  a  little  bit  of  view  from  the  west 
window  upstairs  that  I've  looked  at  often, 
when  the  things,  real  hard  to  bear,  came  thicker 
than  usual,  and  I  begun  to  get  a  trifle  down- 
hearted. It  isn't  much — just  a  corner  of  the 
lake,  with  pines  thick  along  the  shore,  and  a  big, 
blue  mountain  closing  in  behind  —  but  it's  pretty, 
summer  or  winter;  and  I've  thought  that  if  God 
wanted  to  be  as  severe  with  me  as  I've  been 
tempted  sometimes  to  think  he  did,  how  easy  it 
would  have  been  to  leave  the  beauty  out  of  that 
spot,  or  to  put  it  in  front  of  somebody  else's  win- 
dow instead  of  mine.  That's  one  of  my  way- 
side blessings.  This  little  sitting  room's  another, 
though  you  wouldn't  think  it.  Brother  John  calls 
it  '  tucked-up  '  when  he  comes  down  from  his  big 
house  in  the  city  to  spend  a  day  or  two,  but  it's 
large  enough  for  me,  and  if  it  was  larger,  there's 

19 


often  I'd  sit  cold  for  lack  of  wood  to  warm  it.  As 
it  is,  I've  always  managed  to  keep  comfortable,  and 
that's  a  good  deal  to  be  thankful  for." 

Suppose,  that  as  a  means  of  keeping  our  faces 
bright  and  our  hearts  cheerful,  we  begin  looking 
up  our  wayside  blessings.  There  are  "common 
ones  "  —  sunshine,  home,  friends,  health  —  the 
things  we  should  most  miss  if  we  were  deprived 
of  them.  There  are  others  which  are  peculiarly 
your  own.     What  are  they? 

—  Charles  T.  White. 


OING  you  a  song  in  the  garden  of  life, 
If  only  you  gather  a  thistle ; 
Sing  you  a  song 
As  you  travel  along, 
An'  if  you  carCt  sing  —  why,  just  whistle! 

—  Frank  Stanton. 


JUST  whistle  a  bit,  if  your  heart  be  sore  j 
^    'Tis  a  wonderful  balm  for  pain. 
Just  pipe  some  old  melody  o'er  and  o'er. 
Till  it  soothes  like  summer  rain. 

—  Paul  Lawrence  Dunbar. 
20 


r 


'F  one  looks  upon  the  bright  side 
It  is  sure  to  be  the  right  side; 
At  least  that's  how  I've  found  it  as  I've  journeyed 
through  each  day : 
And  it's  queer  how  shadows  vanish, 
And  how  easy  'tis  to  banish 
From   a   bright-side   sort   of  nature   every  doleful 
thing  away.  — Mary  D.  Brine. 


/^NE  secret  of  the  world  through  which  thou  goest 
To  work  with    morning   song,   to  rest  with 

evening  bells ; 
Life  is  in  tune  with  harmony  so  deep 
That  when  the  notes  are  lowest 
Thou  still  canst  lay  thee  down  in  peace  and  sleep, 
For  God  will  not  forget. 

—  Henry  van  Dyke. 

TN  human  life,  at  one  time  the  wind  blows,  the 
rain  falls,  the  frosts  are  cruel ;  at  another  the 
sun  shines,  the  birds  sing,  and  all  is  May ;  but 
through  shadow  or  through  sunlight,  we  are  travel- 
ling onward.  Forget  not  that  the  joy  of  our  In- 
carnation is  the  joy  of  the  Resurrection  also,  and 
there  is  not  one  single  innocent  joy  on  earth  that 

21 


is  not  the  shadow  of  a  promise  of  the  eternal  joy 
of  heaven.  —  Canon  Farrar, 

TVrOT  first  the  bright,  and  after  that  the  dark  — 
But  first  the  dark,  and  after  that  the  bright; 
First  the  thick  cloud,  and  then  the  rainbow's  arc. 
First  the  dark  grave,  then  resurrection-light. 

—  Hor alius  Bonar. 

T   IGHT  may  disclose  a  jewel,  but  it  takes  dark- 
ness to  disclose  a  star. 

"X  ^ /"AS  music  ever  born  of  torture,  of  misery  ? 
It  is  only  when  the  cloud  of  sorrow  is  sink- 
ing in  the  sun-rays  that  song-larks  awake  and 
ascend.  A  glory  of  some  sort  must  fringe  the 
skirts  of  any  sadness,  the  light  of  the  sorrowful 
soul  itself  must  be  shed  upon  it,  and  the  cloud 
must  be  far  enough  removed  to  show  reflected 
light,  before  it  will  yield  any  of  the  stuff  of  which 
songs  are  made.  And  this  light  that  gathers  in 
song,  what  is  it  but  hope  behind  the  sorrow  — 
hope  so  little  recognized  as  such  that  it  is  often 
called  despair  ?  It  is  reviving  and  not  decay  that 
sings  even  the  saddest  of  songs. 

—  George  Macdonald. 
22 


TN  every  pain  there  is  folded  the  seed  of  a  bless- 
■■-  ing  —  we  should  make  sure  that  the  seed  shall 
have  opportunity  to  grow,  and  that  we  may  gather 
its  fruit.  In  every  tear  a  rainbow  hides,  but  only 
when  the  sunshine  falls  upon  the  crystal  drop  is 
the  splendor  revealed.  —  J-  ^-  Miller. 

(~\  ROBIN,  singing  through  the  rain, 
^"^  How  welcome  is  thy  clear  refrain, 
The  tempest  trying  all  in  vain 

To  cheat  thee  of  thy  song ! 
What  cheerfulness,  by  pain  unspent. 
What  gladness  born  of  calm  content. 

Unto  thy  strain  belong. 

Let  sinking  hearts,  taught  by  thy  strain, 
Learn,  too,  to  triumph  over  pain. 
And,  like  thee,  singing  in  the  rain 
A  song  of  hope  and  cheer. 

—  Luella  Clark, 

\\0  we  not  know  that  more  than  half  our  trouble 
is  borrowed  ?  Just  suppose  that  we  could  get 
rid  of  all  unnecessary  and  previous  terror ;  just 
suppose  that  we  could  be  sure  of  final  victory  in 
every  conflict,  and  final  emergence  out  of  every 

23 


shadow  into  brighter  day ;  how  our  hearts  would 
be  lighted,  how  much  more  bravely  we  should  work 
and  fight  and  march  forward  !  This  is  the  courage 
to  which  we  are  entitled,  and  which  we  may  find 
in  the  thought  that  God  is  with  us  everywhere. 
He  will  not  let  any  one  destroy  us.  We  may  be 
hurt,  but  we  can  never  be  harmed.  The  course 
of  our  journey  has  been  appointed  by  Him,  He 
knows  the  way  even  through  the  darkness,  and  its 
goal  is  in  His  bosom.  Be  of  good  cheer,  your 
Shepherd  has  overcome  the  world. 

—  Henry  van  Dyke. 


24 


II 


25 


Live  to  some  purpose,  make  thy  life 
A  gift  of  use  to  thee, 
A  joy,  a  good  and  golden  hope, 
A  heavenly  argosy. 

—  Bryan  Waller  Procter. 


26 


THE  SONG  OF  LIFE 

A/TORNING,  noon,  and  night; 
Morning,  noon,  and  night. 
And  is  this  all  of  life  ? 
Yea,  this  repeated  song  is  all ; 
Yet  from  this  routine  so  monotonous 
'Tis  in  the  power  of  each  to  wake 
Sublimest  harmonies. 
And  make  each  morn  of  life  a  diapason 
Full  of  praise  ;  each  mid-day  hour 
A  celebration  of  the  soul's  high  noon  ; 
Each  night  a  soothing  vesper  song. 
Sweeter  by  far  than  music  from  the  harp 
i^olian  when  'tis  fanned  by  summer  breeze. 
Thus  shall  we  wear  the  royal  victor's  crown. 
And  taste  e'en  here  eternal  joys. 

—  'Jennie  El'i'z.abeth  Gates. 

T    IVING  and  loving  and  dying, 
"^    Life  is  complete  in  the  three ; 
Smiling  or  sobbing  or  sighing  ; 
Which  is  for  you  or  for  me  ? 
27 


Hoping  and  struggling  and  striving, 
Dreaming  success  by  and  by ; 

But  whether  we're  driven  or  driving, 
We  live,  and  we  love,  and  we  die. 

—  'James  TV.  Foley. 

T    IFE  and  religion  are  one,  or  neither  is  nothing. 

—  George  Macdonald. 


TT  is  not  religion,  but  the  lack  of  it,  that  makes 
people  unhappy.  Yet  how  strangely  and  how 
widely  the  opposite  view  prevails !  There  are 
many  who  think  of  religion  not  only  as  a  galling 
drudgery,  but  as  the  surest  source  of  moroseness, 
melancholy,  and  unhappiness  of  life.  Their  idea 
is  that  religion  is  a  system  of  suffering  to  which 
many  people  are  willing  to  submit  here  in  order 
that  they  may  not  suffer  hereafter  —  that  religion's 
only  happiness  is  in  the  future,  its  rewards  after 
death.  Instead,  the  real  fact  is  that  religion  is  a 
thing  of  present  joy  and  ever  continuing  blessed- 
ness. It  is  the  gladdest,  happiest  thing  in  all  this 
world.  "  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and 
all  her  paths  are  peace."  It  is  religion  that  gives 
us  the  bright  things  in  life  and  sin  the  dark  things, 

28 


and  not  vice  versa.  Religion  goes  down  to  the 
deepest  springs  of  our  mental  and  spiritual  well- 
being.  It  brings  untold  measures  of  peace  and  joy. 
It  takes  the  sting  out  of  the  past.  It  takes  the 
worry  out  of  the  present.  It  takes  the  fear  out 
of  the  future.  —  G.  B,  F.  Hallock. 

■\170ULD  you  learn  the  secret  of  royal,  because 
useful,  living  ?  Then  lay  to  your  heart 
these  words  from  the  pen  of  one  who  counts 
among  his  greatest  joys  the  rich  harvest  of  his 
patient  toilings  :  "  To  work  hard  ;  to  take  coun- 
sel of  my  hopes  and  not  my  fears  ;  to  deal  justly 
with  myself  and  generously  with  others ;  to  com- 
mune with  God  in  my  heart  and  be  still ;  to  ever 
and  again  to  work  —  the  closer  my  devotion  to 
these,  the  more  light  and  happiness  come  in  my 
windows."  —  Epworth  Herald. 

OEEK  your  joy   in  what  you  give,  and  not  in 
what  you  get.  —  Evan  Roberts. 


'X'HE  life  worth  living  is  the  life  of  the  man 
who  works,  of  the  man  who  strives,  of  the 
man  who  does,  of  the  man  who,  at  the  end,  can 
look  back  and  say,  I  know  I  have  faltered  ;  I 
know  I  have  stumbled  ;  but,  as  the  strength  was 

29 


given  me  I  strove  to  use  it,  I  strove  to  leave  the 
world  better  and  not  worse  because  I  had  lived 
111  It.  —  Theodore  Roosevelt. 


CERVE  the  Lord  with  gladness  ; 

Come  before  His  presence  with  singing. 

—  Psalm  100  :  2. 

T    IFE'S  more  than  breadth  and  the  quick  round 

of  blood,  it  is  a  great  spirit  and  a  busy  heart. 
The  coward  and  the  small  in  soul  scarcely  do  live. 

"DE  good   .   .   .   and  let  who  will  be  clever; 

Do   noble   things,   nor   dream    them  all   day 
long. 
And  so  make  life,  death,  and  that  vast  forever 
One  grand,  sweet  song. 

—  Charles  Kingsley. 

TT  is  enough  just  to  be  good, 

To  lift  our  hearts  where  they  are  understood. 
To  let  the  thought  of  worldly  power  and  place  go 

unappeased. 
To  smile  back  in  God's  face, 
With  the  glad  lips  our  mother  used  to  kiss. 
Ah,  though  we  miss  all  else  but  this, — 
To  be  good  is  enough. 

—  James  Whitcomb  Riley. 

30 


"\  ^  7"E  know 

That  we  have  power  over  ourselves  to  do 
And  suffer —  what,  we  know  not  till  we  try  ; 
But  something  nobler  than  to  live  and  die. 

—  Shelley. 

TT  was  Goethe  who  said,  "  Life  is  a  quarry." 
He  does  not  mean  the  life  outside  of  yourself. 
He  means  your  own  life,  that  separate  part  of 
God's  universe  over  which  he  has  set  you  as 
supreme  master,  king  to  rule  the  dominion. 
Goethe  says  that  this  life,  your  own  life,  his  life, 
everybody's  life,  is  a  quarry.  A  quarry  is  a  place 
where  stone  is  gotten.  The  value  of  a  quarry  is 
always  in  the  quality  of  its  stone.  The  Rutland 
marble  quarries  are  famed  all  over  our  own  coun- 
try. Now,  life,  if  it  be  a  quarry,  is  simply  a  place 
containing  a  something  that  is  valued,  unformed, 
but  with  skill  may  be  wrought  into  what  is  valu- 
able. The  stone  from  a  quarry  is  chiselled  into 
form.  A  greater  value  comes  from  the  chiselling 
of  this  stone.  Michael  Angelo's  "  Moses "  is 
witness  of  what  a  great  artist  may  do  with  a  chisel 
upon  a  block  of  marble.  Really,  then,  if  your 
own  life  is  a  quarry,  you  yourself  must  be  the 
artist,  and  out  of  the  material  of  that  quarry  you 

31 


are  going  to  make  what  is  beautiful  and  worthful 
to  the  world.  Let  me  complete  the  entire  quota- 
tion, "  Life  is  a  quarry  out  of  which  we  are  to 
mould  and  chisel  and  complete  a  character." 

—  John  T.  McFarland. 

/^^OD  keeps  his  holy  mysteries 

Just  on  the  outside  of  man's  dream  ! 
In  diapason  slow,  we  think 
To  hear  their  pinions  rise  and  sink, 
While  they  float  pure  beneath  His  eye, 
Like  swans  adown  a  stream. 
Abstractions,  are  they,  from  the  forms 
Of  His  great  beauty  ?  exaltations 
From  His  great  glory  ?  strong  previsions 
Of  what  we  shall  be  ?  intuitions 
Of  what  we  are —  in  calms  and  storms, 
Beyond  our  peace  and  passions  ? 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

"VT'OU  remember  the  famous  line  of  Robert 
Browning,  "  God's  in  his  heaven,  all's  right 
with  the  world "  ?  That  was  the  one  source  of 
the  optimism  of  Browning  ;  but  the  optimism  of 
Jesus  went  a  great  deal  deeper.  It  was  the  fact 
that  God  was  in  his  earth,  so  that  the  ravens  were 

32 


fed  and  the  lilies  were  adorned,  and  so  that  the 
very  hairs  of  a  man's  head  are  numbered  —  it  was 
that  which  gave  a  radiant  quietude  to  Christ. 

—  G.  H.  Morrison. 


T  TOW  many  people  miss  the  real  meaning  and 
purpose  of  life  !  Overwhelmed  by  its  mys- 
tery, perplexed  by  its  motive,  depressed  by  its 
miseries,  they  do  not  feel  the  spell  of  its  majesty, 
nor  succumb  to  the  charm  of  its  sweet  melodies, 
nor  enter  into  the  joys  of  its  noble  ministries. 

The  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  "  The  life  is  more 
than  meat,"  come  as  a  message  of  warning  and  of 
inspiration  to  those  who  are  bound  to  the  earth  by 
their  evil  propensities ;  whose  eyes  do  not  behold 
the  glories  of  the  hills  and  skies ;  who  are  content 
to  work  in  the  sordid  soil  of  selfishness,  and  who 
are  steeped  in  covetousness  and  defiled  by  the  stain 
of  sin. 

Life  is  infinitely  more  than  meat,  raiment, 
money,  pleasure,  social  position,  or  intellectual 
distinction.  It  has  its  root  in  the  venerable  past 
and  reaches  out  into  the  mysterious  but  certain 
future.  It  is  a  gift  from  Him  who  inhabiteth  eter- 
nity, and  is  the  recognition  by  God  of  the  eternal 

33 


element  in  man,  and  of  the  human  affinity  for  the 
divine. 

Life  is  a  serious  thing,  and  a  precious  heritage. 
It  cannot  be  treated  carelessly  with  impunity ;  vio- 
lation of  its  great,  divine  laws  is  meted  with  swift 
and  unerring  punishment.  He  who  would  get  the 
most  out  of  it  must  put  the  most  into  it;  and  there 
is  no  better  way  to  get  the  utmost  benefit  out  of  it 
than  by  making  every  day  of  it  count  in  the  largest 
measure  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  blessing  of 

"^^"-  — Epworth  Herald. 

/^UR  life  is  but  the   childhood  of  our   eternity, 
the  school  days  preparatory  for  the  immortal 
years  beyond.  _  Canon  Farrar. 

OHALL  we  not  see  life's  mystery  made  plain. 

As  some  fair  pictured  tapestry  that  seems 
Upon  its  nether  side,  beneath  the  hand 
Of  him  who  wears,  naught  but  disordered  threads; 
And  colors  in  a  wild  confusion  mixed; 
While  on  the  upper  surface  shine  the  forms 
Of  beauty,  and  the  colors  rich  and  rare 
That  had  their  birth  deep  in  the  master's  mind. 
There  glowing  ere  they  saw  the  light  of  day  ?   .   .  . 

34 


Shall  we  not  be  like  some  o'erweary  child 
From  whose  limp  fingers  slips  the  tedious  task, 
And,  while  it  slumbers,  mother's  gentle  hands 
Undo  the  stitches ;  all  the  tangled  threads 
In  order  lay,  and  when  the  child  awakes. 
Its  tears  have  changed  to  smiles,  its  troubles  fled  ? 

—  Henry  Nehemiah  Dodge. 

"D  EFLECT  that  life,  like  every  other  blessing, 

Derives  its  value  from  its  use  alone ; 
Not  for  itself,  but  for  a  nobler  end, 
Th'  Eternal  gave  it,  and  that  end  is  virtue. 

—  Dr.  'Johnson. 

OO,  at  the  loom  of  life,  we  weave 

Our  separate  threads,  that  varying  fall, 
Some  stained,  some  fair,  and,  passing,  leave 
To  God  the  gathering  up  of  all.   .  .   , 

In  His  vast  work,  for  good  or  ill. 

The  undone  and  the  done  He  blends. 
With  whatsoever  woof  we  fill. 

To  our  weak  hands  His  might  He  lends, 
And  gives  the  threads  beneath  His  eye, 
The  texture  of  eternity. 

—  Lucy  Larcom. 

35 


A  LL   things  work   together   for  good   to   them 
that  love  God. — Romans  8 :  28. 

A  LL  things  "work  together,"  many  different 
colors,  in  themselves  raw  and  unsightly,  are 
required  to  weave  the  harmonious  pattern  .  .  . 
take  a  thread  separately,  and  there  may  be  neither 
use  nor  beauty  discernible.  But  complete  the 
web,  and  you  see  how  perfect  and  symmetrical  the 

^^^s^^'-  —  J.  R.  Macduff. 

THE   LOOMS   OF   GOD 

'  I  ''HE  years  of  man  are  the  looms  of  God,  let 

down  from  the  place  of  the  sun. 
Wherein  we  are  weaving  ever,  till  the  mystic  web 

is  done. 

Weaving  blindly,  but  weaving  surely,  each  for  him- 
self his  fate  — 

We  may  not  see  how  the  right  side  looks,  we  can 
only  weave  and  wait. 

But,  looking  above  for  the  pattern,  no  weaver  hath 

need  to  fear. 
Only  let  him  look  clear  into  heaven,  the  Perfect 

Pattern  is  there. 

36 


If  he  keeps  the  face  of  the  Saviour   forever  and 

alway  in  sight, 
His  toil  shall  be  sweeter  than  honey,  his  weaving  is 

sure  to  be  right. 

And  when  the  work  is  ended,  and  the  web  is  turned 

and  shown, 
He  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Master,  it  shall  say 

unto  Him,  "Well  done!" 

And  the  white-winged  angels  of  Heaven,  to  bear 

him  thence  shall  come  down ; 
And  God  shall  give  him  gold  for  his  hire  —  not 

coin,  but  a  glowing  crown. 

—  Anson  G.  Chester. 


A   PETITION   TO   TIME 

nrOUCH  us  gently.  Time! 

Let  us  glide  adown  thy  stream 
Gently,  —  as  we  sometimes  glide 
Through  a  quiet  dream  ! 
Humble  voyagers  are  we. 
Husband,  wife,  and  children  three  — 
One  is  lost,  —  an  angel,  fled 
To  the  azure  overhead  ! 

37 


Touch  us  gently,  Time  ! 

We've  not  proud  nor  soaring  wings : 

Our  ambition,  our  content, 

Lies  in  simple  things. 

Humble  voyagers  are  we. 

O'er  Life's  dim  unsounded  sea. 

Seeking  only  some  small  clim'e  ;  — 

Touch  us  gently^  gentle  Time  ! 

—  Bryan  Waller  Procter. 

T  SOMETIMES  feel  the  thread  of  life  is  slender 
And  soon  with  me  the  labor  will  be  wrought ; 

Then  grows  my  heart  to  other  hearts  more  tender — 
The  time,  the  time  is  short. 

—  Hezekiah  Butterworth. 


'VXJWAY  a  vast  portion  of  our  lives  is  spent  in 
anxious  and  useless  forebodings  concerning 
the  future,  either  our  own  or  that  of  our  dear  ones  ! 
Present  joys,  present  blessings,  slip  by  and  we  miss 
half  their  sweet  flavor,  and  all  for  want  of  faith  in 
Him  who  provides  for  the  tiniest  insect  in  the  sun- 
beam. O,  when  shall  we  learn  the  sweet  trust  in 
God  our  little  children  teach  us  every  day  by  their 
confiding  faith  in  us  ?      We  who  are  so  mutable,  so 

38 


faulty,  so  irritable,  so  unjust;  and  He,  who  is  so 
watchful,  so  pitiful,  so  loving,  so  forgiving  !  Why 
cannot  we,  slipping  our  hand  into  His  each  day, 
walk  trustingly  over  that  day's  appointed  path, 
thorny  or  flowery,  crooked  or  straight,  knowing 
that  evening  will  bring  us  sleep,  peace,  and  home  ? 

—  Phillips  Brooks. 

/^UR  biggest,  blackest  troubles  are   often  only 
the  locomotive  drawing  our  richest  treasure 
train. 

TT  ain't  no  use  to  grumble  and  complain, 

It's  jest  as  cheap  and  easy  to  rejoice  ; 
When  God  sorts  out  the  weather  and  sends  rain, 
Why,  rain's  my  choice.  Jnon. 


A  LIVING  torch  and  a  dead  ember  were 
sent  forth  into  the  world  to  find  out  what 
the  world  was  like.  The  torch  returned  and 
reported  that  there  was  light  everywhere.  The 
ember  reported  that  it  was  dark  everywhere,  with 
not  a  ray  of  light  shining.  So  do  men  find  in  the 
world  just  what  is  in  themselves.  One  man  says 
it  is  a  world  of  sadness.     There  is  nothing  in  it 

39 


but  sorrow.  All  its  songs  are  songs  of  tears.  He 
has  not  found  a  bit  of  blue  nor  heard  a  note  of 
gladness  in  all  his  rounds.  Poor  man  !  it  is  only 
the  gloom  of  his  own  heart  that  he  is  reporting. 
He  has  in  him  no  capacity  for  seeing  beauty  or  for 
hearing  joy  notes.  Another  man  goes  out  over 
precisely  the  same  course,  hearing  the  same  sounds, 
and  seeing  the  same  sights,  and  he  reports  that  he 
found  only  music  and  loveliness  everywhere.  The 
world  was  full  of  sweet  songs.  On  every  spot 
flowers  bloomed  ;  everywhere  light  was  shining. 

—  J.R.  Miller, 

LIFT  thyself  up,  look  around,  and  see  some- 
thing higher  and  brighter  than  earth,  earth- 
worms, and  earthly  darkness.  —  Richter. 


B 


E     assured     that     endurance    is    nobler    than 
strength,  and   patience  than   beauty. 

—  'John  Rusktn. 

I   OFTEN  think  I  cannot  spell 
The  lesson  I  must  learn. 
And  then  in  weariness  and  doubt 

I  pray  the  page  may  turn. 
But  time  goes  on,  and  soon  I  find 
40 


I  was  learning  all  the  while ; 
And  words  which  seemed  most  dimly  traced 
Shine  out  with  rainbow  smile. 

We  do  not  see  our  Teacher's  face, 

We  do  not  hear  his  voice, 
And  yet  we  know  that  He  is  near. 

We  feel  it  and  rejoice. 
There  is  a  music  round  our  hearts 

Set  in  no  mortal  key ; 
There  is  a  presence  with  our  souls, 

We  know  that  it  is  He. 

His  loving  teaching  cannot  fail 

And  we  shall  know  at  last 
Each  task  that  seemed  so  hard  and  strange 

When  learning  time  is  past. 
And  then  to  know  as  we  are  known 

Shall  be  our  glorious  prize. 
To  see  the  Teacher  who  hath  been 

So  patient  and  so  wise. 

O  joy  untold  !   yet  not  alone 

Shall  ours  the  gladness  be ; 
The  travel  of  His  soul  in  us 

Our  Saviour  God  shall  see. 

—  Frances  R.  Havergal. 

41 


I   THINK  we  are  too  ready  with  complaint 
In  this  fair  world  of  God's. 
Be  comforted ! 

And  like  a  cheerful  traveller  take  the  road, 
Singing  beside  the  hedge  !     What  if  the  bread 
Be  bitter  in  thine  inn,  and  thou  unshod 
To  meet  the  flints  ?     At  least  it  may  be  said, 
"  Because  the  way  is  short,  I  thank  Thee,  God." 
—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

TV /TY  life  may  lead  through  shadowed  night, 

Like  some  deserted  byway. 
But  though  life's  dearest  joy  I  miss 
There  lies  a  nameless  strength  in  this  — 
I  will  be  worthy  of  it. 

—  Ella  Wheeler  TVilcox. 


"PORENOON,  afternoon,  and  night !  — 
Forenoon,  and  afternoon,  and  night  — 
Forenoon,  and  —  what ! 
The  empty  song  repeats  itself.     No  more  ? 
Yea,  this  is  life ;   make  this  forenoon  sublime, 
This  afternoon  a  psalm,  this  night  a  prayer, 
And  Time  is  conquered,  and  thy  crown  is  won. 

—  Edward  Rowland  Sill. 
42 


TF  we  would  bring  a  holy  life  to  Christ,  we  must 
mind  our  fireside  duties  as  well  as  the  duties  of 
the  sanctuary.  —  Charles  Spurgeon. 

nrO  be  patient  under  a  heavy  cross  is  no  small 

praise ;  to  be  contented  is  more  ;    but  to  be 

cheerful  is  the  highest  pitch  of  Christian  fortitude. 

—  Bishop  Hall. 

T^HERE  is  no  journey  of  life  but  has  its  clouded 
days ;  and  there  are  some  days  in  which  our 
eyes  are  so  blinded  with  tears  that  we  find  it  hard 
to  see  our  way  or  even  read  God's  promises. 
Those  days  that  have  a  bright  sunrise  followed  by 
sudden  thunderclaps  and  bursts  of  unlooked-for 
sorrows,  are  the  ones  that  test  certain  of  our  graces 
the  most  severely.  Yet  the  law  of  spiritual  eye- 
sight very  closely  resembles  the  law  of  physical 
optics.  When  we  come  suddenly  out  of  the  day- 
light into  a  room  even  moderately  darkened,  we 
can  discern  nothing,  but  the  pupil  of  our  eye 
gradually  enlarges  until  unseen  objects  become  vis- 
ible. Even  so  the  pupil  of  the  eye  of  faith  has  the 
blessed  faculty  of  enlarging  in  dark  hours  of  be- 
reavement, so   that   we   discover   that   our   loving 

43 


Father's  hand   is  holding  the  cup  of  trial,  and  by 
and  by  the  gloom  becomes  luminous  with  glory. 

—  Theodore  L.  Cuyler. 


T^rOULD  we  be  strong  ?     We  must  often  be 
put  to  the  trial  of  our  strength.     Covet  we 
the  best  gifts  ?     They  are  not  granted  to  the  un- 
disciplined. 

We  "  rise  on  stepping-stones  of  our  dead  selves 
to  higher  things."  No  one  soul  is  so  obscure  that 
God  does  not  take  thought  for  its  schooling.  The 
sun  is  the  central  light  of  the  universe,  but  it  has 
a  mission  to  the  ripening  corn  and  the  purpling 
clusters  of  the  vine.  The  sunshine  that  comes 
filtering  through  the  morning  mists,  with  healing 
in  its  wings,  and  charms  all  the  birds  to  singing, 
should  have,  also,  a  message  from  God  to  sad 
hearts.  No  soul  is  so  grief-laden  that  it  may  not 
be  lifted  to  sources  of  heavenly  comfort  by  recog- 
nizing the  divine  love  in  the  perpetual  recurrence 
of  earthly  blessings  :  — 

'*  The  night  is  mother  of  the  day, 
The  winter  of  the  spring  ; 
And  even  upon  old  decay 
The  greenest  mosses  cling. 

44 


Behind  the  cloud  the  starlight  lurks  ; 

Through  showers  the  sunbeams  fall ; 
For  God,  who  loveth  all  His  works. 

Hath  left  His  hope  with  all." 

—  Mary  H.  Houghton. 

TJ*VERY  life  that  seeks  in  love  and  loyalty  to  do 
the  will  of  God  is  a  complete  and  perfect  life, 
no  matter  how  or  where  it  ends  ;  that  to  be  faith- 
less is  to  fail,  whatever  the  apparent  success  of 
earth ;  that  to  be  faithful  is  to  succeed,  whatever 
the  apparent  failure  on  earth. 

"  For  thence  a  paradox 
Which  comforts  while  it  mocks ; 
Shall  life  succeed  in  that  it  seems  to  fail  ? " 

Failure,  then,  is  never  an  obsolete  word  —  always 
relative ;  and  the  only  real  failure  is  inside,  not 
outside.  It  is  not  being  true  to  the  best  we  know. 
Inside  failure  is  the  only  calamity.  Outside  fail- 
ure may  be  the  greatest  blessing. 

—  Maltbie  D.  Bahcock. 

TT  is  better  to  prefer  honorable  defeat  to  a  mean 
victory,  to  lowering  the  level  of  our  aim  that 
we  may  more  certainly  enjoy  the  complacency  of 
success.  _  j^/,„  Rmkin. 

45 


TV/TY  business  is  not  to  remake  myself, 
But  make  the  absolute  best  of  what 

God  made.  — Robert  Browning. 


/'"^HEER  and  good  nature  radiate  from  a  coun- 
tenance that  reflects  always  the  light  of  good- 
ness. 


TN  all  things  of  the  world,  the  men  who  look  for 
the  crooked  will  see  the  crooked,  and  the  men 
who  look  for  the  straight  will  see  the  straight. 

—  John  Ruskin. 

T  Tt  rE  are  not  through  with  our  life  as  we  live  it. 
Every  act,  every  word,  every  thought,  every 
choice,  is  a  seed  which  we  drop.  We  go  on  care- 
lessly, never  dreaming  that  we  shall  ever  again  see 
our  deeds.  Then  some  day  we  come  upon  an 
ugly  plant  growing  somewhere,  and  we  ask,  "  What 
is  this  ?  "  Comes  the  answer  :  "  I  am  one  of  your 
plants.  You  dropped  the  seed  which  grew  into 
me."  Our  lives  are  the  little  garden  plats  in 
which  it  is  our  privilege  to  drop  seeds.  We  shall 
have  to  eat  the  fruits  of  the  seeds  which  we  are 
planting  these  days.  _  j^  j^    j^///^^, 

46 


LIFE'S   ANSWER 

T  KNOW  not  if  the  dark  or  bright 

Shall  be  my  lot ; 
If  that  wherein  my  hopes  delight 

Be  best  or  not. 
Dear  faces  may  surround  my  hearth 

With  smiles  and  glee ; 
Or  I  may  dwell  alone,  and  mirth 

Be  strange  to  me. 

My  bark  is  wafted  to  the  strand 

By  breath  divine ; 
And  on  the  helm  there  rests  a  hand 

Other  than  mine. 
One  who  has  known  in  storms  to  sail 

I  have  on  board  ; 
Above  the  raving  of  the  gale 

I  hear  my  Lord. 

He  holds  me  when  the  billows  smite, — 

I  shall  not  fall. 
If  sharp,  'tis  short;   if  long,  'tis  light,— 

He  tempers  all. 
Safe  to  the  land,  safe  to  the  land, — 

The  end  is  this  ; 

47 


And  then  with  Him  go  hand  in  hand 
Far  into  bliss. 

—  Henry  Alford. 

"X  "\ /"HO  is  the  angel  that  cometh  ? 
^^  Life! 

Let  us  not  question  what  he  brings, 

Peace  or  strife, 
Under  the  shade  of  his  mighty  wings. 
We  will  arise  and  go  forth  to  greet  him. 
Singing  gladly,  with  one  accord, 
"  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh 
In  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

—  Adelaide  A.  Procter. 


r^OY)  asks  no  man  if  he  will  accept  life.     That 

is  not  the  ch 
only  choice  is,  how. 


is  not  the  choice.     You  must  take  it.     The 


CCULPTORS  of  life  are  we,  as  we  stand 

With  our  souls  uncarved  before  us. 
Waiting  the  hour  when  at  God's  command 

Our  life  dream  passes  o'er  us. 
If  we  carve  it  yet  on  the  yielding  stone. 
With  many  a  sharp  incision, 

48 


Its  heavenly  vision  shall  be  our  own, 
Our  lives  —  that  angel  vision. 

—  Bishop  Doane. 

"  'T'AKE  your  needle,  my  child,  and  work  at 
your  pattern  ;  it  will  come  out  a  rose  by 
and  by."  Life  is  like  that — one  stitch  at  a  time 
taken  patiently,  and  the  pattern  will  come  out  all 
right  like  the  embroidery. 

—  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

'  I  'OO  great  Thy  heart  is  to  despise ; 

Thy  day  girds  centuries  about ; 
From  things  we  "  little"  call.  Thine  eyes 
See  great  things  looking  out. 

—  George  Macdonald. 

TN  our  Father's  school  are  many  benches.  This 
life  is  school-time.  Whatever  the  word  God 
writes  on  the  top  of  your  page  —  patience,  courage, 
forgiveness,  resignation  —  copy  it  over  and  over 
until  he  gives  you  another  word.  Never  murmur. 
Do  your  best  to  solve  your  problems.  If  they 
are  hard,  try  hard.  If  you  are  in  the  dark,  say, 
"  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth."     When 

49 


you  feel  like  complaining,  listen.  Be  still  before 
God.  David  said,  "  I  was  dumb,  I  opened  not 
my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it."  That  is  better 
than  moaning  and  lamenting ;  but  let  us  leap  from 
David  to  Jesus,  and  say,  "  The  cup  which  my 
Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  " 
"  Father,  glorify  Thy  name."  So  shall  we  be 
made  perfect  through  suffering." 

—  Maltbie  D.  Bahcock^  D.D. 


CONTENTMENT 

T  AM  content.      In  trumpet  tones, 

My  song  let  people  know ; 
And  many  a  mighty  man  with  thrones 

And  sceptre  is  not  so. 
And  if  he  is,  I  joyful  cry. 
Why,  then,  he's  just  the  same  as  I. 

My  motto  is,  —  Content  with  this. 

Gold  —  place  —  I  prize  not  such. 
That  which  I  have,  my  measure  is ; 

Wise  men  desire  not  much. 
Men  wish  and  wish,  and  have  their  will, 
And  wish  again  as  hungry  still. 
50 


Be  noble  —  that  is  more  than  wealth  ; 

Do  right  —  that's  more  than  place ; 
Then  in  the  spirit  there  is  health, 

And  gladness  in  the  face ; 
Then  thou  art  with  thyself  as  one 
And,  no  man  hating,  fearest  none. 

—  George  Macdonald. 


THE   WEB    OF   LIFE 

A /TY  life,  which  was  so  straight  and  plain. 
Has  now  become  a  tangled  skein, 

Yet  God  still  holds  the  thread ; 
Weave  as  I  may.  His  hand  doth  guide 
The  shuttle's  course,  however  wide 

The  chain  in  woof  be  wed. 

One  weary  night,  when  months  went  by, 
I  plied  my  loom  with  tear  and  sigh. 

In  grief  unnamed,  untold  ; 
But  when  at  last  the  morning's  light 
Broke  on  my  vision,  fair  and  bright. 

There  gleamed  a  cloth  of  gold. 

And  now  I  never  lose  my  trust. 
Weave  as  I  may  —  and  weave  I  must  — 

51 


That  God  doth  hold  the  thread ; 
He  guides  my  shuttle  on  its  way, 
He  makes  complete  my  task  each  day ; 

What  more,  then,  can  be  said  ? 

—  Clara  F.  Moore. 


52 


Ill 


53 


What  though  shadows  rise  to  obscure  life's 
skies, 
And  hide  for  the  time  the  sun ; 
They  sooner  will  lift,  and  reveal  the  rift. 
If  you  let  the  melody  run. 

—  Kate  R.  Stiles. 


54 


LIFE'S   SILVER   LINING 

TS  the  road  very  dreary  ? 

Patience  yet ! 
Rest  will  be  sweeter  if  thou  art  aweary ; 
And  after  the  night  cometh  the  morning  cheery, 
Then  bide  a  wee  and  dinna  fret. 


The  clouds  have  a  silver  lining, 

Don't  forget ; 
And  though  he's  hidden,  still  the  sun  is  shining  : 
Courage  !      Instead  of  tears  and  sad  repining. 
Just  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 

Grief,  sharper  sting  doth  borrow 

From  regret ; 
But  yesterday  is  gone,  and  shall  its  sorrow 
Unfit  us  for  the  present  and  the  morrow  ? 
Nay;   bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 

—  Jnna  Shipton. 

55 


FORESHADOWINGS 


O 


SUMMER  sunshine  soft  and  still, 
That  will  not  stay; 
O  tender  green  on  vale  and  hill 

That  soon  will  fade  away; 
O  glad,  brown  thrush,  that  in  green  nook 
Sings  for  a  day  ; 

0  drooping  elm,  whose  roots  it  took 
A  hundred  years  to  lay. 

1  look  and  listen  —  while  I  think, 

The  years  go  on  ; 
More  elms  will  shade  the  river's  brink 

When  these  are  gone; 
And  other  thrushes  here  will  sing. 

Their  little  lay; 
And  fresher,  tenderer  green  may  spring 

When  this  shall  fade  away. 

—  Luella  Clark. 


TT  is  faith 

The    feeling  that  there's  God,  He  reigns 
and  rules 
Out  of  this  low  world. 

—  Robert  Browning. 
56 


T    SCOFFED  at  the  «  silver  lining  "  ; 

I  sneered  at  Hope.     The  care 
That  fell  about  my  every  hour 

Cast  shadow  everyu'here. 
My  little  daughter  listened 

And,  smiling,  made  reply, 
"  I  thought  that  shadows  never  fell 
Unless  the  sun  were  nigh  !  " 

—  F.A.  Whiting. 

T  ONCE  saw  a  dark  shadow  resting  on  the 
bare  side  of  a  hill.  Seeking  its  cause,  I  saw  a 
little  cloud  bright  as  the  light  floating  in  the  clear 
blue  above.  Thus  it  is  with  our  sorrow.  It  may 
be  dark  and  cheerless  here  on  earth ;  yet  look 
above  and  you  shall  see  it  to  be  but  a  shadow  of 
His  brightness  whose  name  is  Love. 

—  Anon. 


/^H,  small  shall  seem  all  sacrifice 

And  pain  and  loss 
When  God  shall  wipe  the  weeping  eyes, 
For  suffering  give  the  victor's  prize. 
The  crown  for  cross  ! 

—  John  G.  Whittier. 

57 


^~\   God  of  the  hills  and  valleys, 
We  bless  thee  on  our  way  ! 
Thou  art  near  in  the  morning  splendor, 

And  burden  and  heat  of  the  day. 
Near  when  the  night  mists  gather, 
Near  when  the  morn  shall  rise, 
And  we  pass  from  the  valley's  shadow 
To  the  hills  of  paradise. 

—  Lillian  Ellis  Charlton. 


T  THANK  Thee,  O  my  Father, 
For  the  sunshine  and  the  rain. 
For  the  beauty  and  the  pleasure. 
For  the  weariness  and  pain. 

For  the  hours  of  sorrow  brought  me 

Knowledge  of  a  joy  divine. 
And  I  learned,  through  pain  and  weakness, 

That  the  strength  of  God  is  mine. 

—  Ida  L.  Lewis. 


"PROVIDENCE  has  a  thousand  keys  to    open 
a  thousand  doors  for  the'  deliverance  of  His 

— Samuel  Rutherford. 


58 


T^ARK  clouds  in  the  air  hid  the  blue  sky  so  fair 

We  watched  through  the  moistening  pane, 
And  hoped  it  might  bring,  as  a  token  of  spring, 
A  sweet  little  shower  of  rain. 

Soon  the  rain  coming  down   on   the  cottage  roof 
brown. 

We  heard  with  a  thrill  of  delight. 
It  pattered  and  tinkled,  and  spattered  and  sprinkled 

The  new  grass  and  leaves  tender  and  bright. 

Garden  beds  we  had  made  it  carefully  sprayed, 
Made  greener  the  green  fields  of  wheat. 

Then  hung  out  a  bow  with  glory  aglow. 

How  we  breathed  in  the  air  fresh  and  sweet ! 

The  bright  little  rills  rippled  down  from  the  hills. 
The  clouds  were  all  washed  from  the  skies. 

The  song  of  a  bird  from  a  tree  top  was  heard, 
And  the  violets  waked  in  surprise. 

—  Delia  Hart  Stone. 


A    LITTLE  sun,  a  little  rain, 

A  soft  wind  blowing  from  the  west, 
And  woods  and  fields  are  sweet  again. 

And  warmth  within  the  mountain's  breast. 

59 


OO,  when  spring  comes 

With  sunshine  back  again  like  an  old  smile, 
And  the  fresh  waters  and  awakened  birds 
And  budding  woods  await  us,  I  shall  be 
Prepared,  and  we  will  question  life  once  more. 
Till  its  old  sense  shall  come  renewed  by  change. 
Like  some  clear  thought  which  harsh  words  veiled 

before ; 
Feeling,  God  loves  us,  and  that  all  which  errs 
Is  but  a  dream  which  death  will  dissipate. 

—  Robert  Browning. 


/^H,  trust  God  and  take  courage  !  If  He  has 
seemed  to  set  bounds  to  your  path,  and  hedged 
you  in,  be  assured  that  there  is  for  you  a  broader, 
higher,  and  grander  mission  than  any  you  have  yet 
conceived  of  for  yourself.  Strive  to  be  a  bit  of 
blue  sky  in  the  lives  of  those  around  you.  Then 
your  life  cannot  be  a  failure  any  more  than  those 
blue  rays  are  a  failure.  _  j^  m.  Gordon. 


HTHROUGHOUT  the  living  summer  day 
The  leaf  and  twin-born  shadow  play 
Till  leaf  to  shadow  fade  ; 
60 


Then,  hidden  for  a  season  brief, 
They  dream,  till  shadow  turn  to  leaf,  . 
As  leaf  was  turned  to  shade. 

—  "John  B.  Tabb. 


O  AID  the  little  brown  leaf  as  it  hung  in  the  air, 
To  the  little  brown  leaf  below, 
"  What  a  summer  we've  had 
To  rejoice  and  be  glad. 
But  to-day  there's  a  feeling  of  snow." 

—  Margaret  E.  Sangster. 


"\TOW  is  winter  and  now  is  sorrow ; 
No  roses,  but  only  thorns  to-day  ; 
Thorns  will  put  on  roses  to-morrow. 

Winter  and  sorrow  scudding  away,  — 
No  more  winter  and  no  more  sorrow 
To-morrow. 

—  Christina  G.  Rossetti. 

/~\  HEART  of  mine,  we  shouldn't 

Worry  so  ! 
What  we've  missed  of  calm, 
We  couldn't  have  you  know  ! 
What  we've  met  of  stormy  pain, 
6i 


T 


And  of  sorrow's  driving  rain, 
We  can  better  meet  again, 
If  it  blow  ! 

—  "James  Whitcomh  Riley. 

HERE'S  always  lots  of  other  folks  you  kin  be 
sorry  for  'stid  of  yourself. 

—  Mrs.  IFiggs. 


nPHEN  take  the  sunshine  God  has  sent. 
And  share  that  light  and  life  with  all ; 
Just  let  the  burden  fall ;   consent 

To  live  content.  _  p^i^^  ^i^j^^^ 

(~\^t  yes,  we  love  ;  albeit  winter  snows 

Cover  the  flowers,  the  flowers  are  there, 
God  knows.  _H.  C.  Beeching. 

IVTEVER  was  there  a  cloud  which  has  not  passed, 
A  storm,  however  long,  which  did  not  cease  j 
And  though  our  way  be  darkly  overcast 

By  sorrow's  shade,  beyond  is  sure  release ; 
As  sure  as  that  God  lives  for  aye  and  aye. 
If  only  we  keep  on  our  steady  way. 

—  Antoinette  van  Hoe  sen. 
62 


"PAITH  shares  the  future  promise ;  love's 

Self-ofFering  is  a  triumph  won  ; 
And  each  good  thought  or  action  moves 
The  dark  vi'orld  nearer  the  sun. 

—  J.  G.  Whittier. 

'X'HE  strange  way,  my  dearie  — 

The  bright  world  and  cold ; 
For  God  gives  one  the  violets, 

And  God  gives  one  the  gold.   .  .   . 

The  strange  way,  my  dearie  — 

Its  blue  skies  and  gray  ; 
But  God  shall  read  the  riddle 

There  —  at  His  judgment  day. 

—  Frank  L.  Stanton. 

/^^OD  hath  not  promised  sun  without  rain, 

Joy  without  sorrow,  peace  without  pain ; 
But  God  hath  promised  strength  from  above. 
Unfailing  sympathy,  undying  love.  ^ 

TTAD  we  only  sunshine  all  the  year  around, 
Without  the  blessing  of  refreshing  rain, 
Would  we  scatter  seed  upon  the  fallow  ground. 
And  hope  to  gather  flowers,  fruit,  and  grain  ? 

63 


Had  we  not  a  sorrow  or  a  cross  to  bear, 
For  Him  who  bears  the  burden  of  our  sin, 

Would  we  know  the  sweetness  of  His  love  and 
care, 
Or  even  strive  eternal  life  to  win  ? 

Can  we  prize  the  sunshine  and  deplore  the  rain. 
Repining  when  the  days  are  dark  and  drear  ? 

Can  we  hope  for  pleasure,  yet  deny  the  pain. 
Or  share  the  joys  of  life  without  the  tear  ? 

—  Charles  H.  Gabriel. 

TT  ain't  never  no  use  puttin'  up  yer  umbrell'  till 
it  rains.  —Mrs.  Wiggs. 


I 


T  is  best  to  let  old  troubles  sleep ; 
Why  need  to  rouse  them  ?  you  are  happy,  sure ! 
But  if  one  asks,  "  Art  happy  ?  "  why,  it  sets 
The  thoughts  a-working.     No,  say  I ;  let  love. 
Let  peace  and  happy  folk  alone. 

—  ^ean  Ingelow. 

VT'OU  needn't  pick  up  any  worries.     You  can 
get  them  anywhere  as  you  go  along. 

—  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney. 

64 


OOME    people    are    always    finding    fault    with 
Nature  for  putting  thorns  on  roses ;   I  always 
thank  her  for  putting  roses  on  thorns. 

—  Alphonse  Karr. 


T    IFE'S  attar  of  roses  is  as  rare  as  it  is  precious, 
and  it  takes  sunshine  of  many  summers  and 
the  bearing  of    many  thorns  to  produce  a  single 
drop,  but  the  perfume  of  it  will  last  forever. 

—  Ellen  T.  Fowler, 


'"PHE  summer  comes  and  the  summer  goes  ; 

Wild  flowers  are  fringing  the  dusty  lanes. 
The  swallows  go  darting  through  fragrant  rains. 
Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  it  snows. 

—  T.  B.  Aldrich. 


nPHE    skies    are   never  so  bright  as  when  they 
have  been  washed  by  a  shower. 


T^HERE'S  a  little  splash  of  sunshine  and  a  little 
spot  of  shade 
Always  somewhere  near; 

65 


The  wise  bask   in  the   sunshine,  but   the   foolish 
choose  the  shade  — 

The  wise  are  gay  and  happy,  on  the  foolish  sor- 
row's laid, 
And  the  fault's  their  own,  I  fear. 

For  the  little  splash  of  sunshine  and  the  little  spot 
of  shade 

Are  here  for  joint  consumption,  for  comparison  are 
made. 

We're  all  meant  to  be  happy  —  not  too  foolish  or 
too  staid  ; 

And  the  right  dose  to  be  taken  is  some  sunshine 
mixed  with  shade  !  _  Stanley  Dark. 


r\  RAINY  days  !     O  days  of  sun  ! 

What  are  ye  all  when  the  day  is  done  ? 
Who  shall  remember  sun  or  rain  ? 

O  years  of  loss  !      O  joyful  years  ! 
What  are  ye  all  when  heaven  appears  ? 
Who  shall  look  back  for  joy  or  pain  ? 

—  William  Prescott  Foster. 

66 


"DECALMED  along  the  azure  sky, 

The  argosies  of  cloudland  lie, 
Whose  shores,  with  many  a  shining  rift, 
Far  off  their  pearl-white  peaks  uplift. 

—  'John  T.  Trowbridge. 


T  TPON  the  grass  the  mist-wreaths  lie ; 

Above  the  mist,  spread  thick  and  far. 
The  hurrying  rain-cloud,  gray  and  swift ; 
But  a  star  shines  through  a  wind-rent  rift. 

The  blue  sky  just  beyond  the  star, 
And  God's  above  the  sky. 

—  C.  D.  Robinson. 


TT  is  a  well-known  fact  that  there  is  a  perfect 
calm  at  the  centre  of  every  cyclone,  and  above 
it  there  is  a  patch  of  blue  sky,  which  is  called  by 
sailors  "the  eye  of  the  storm."  So  there  is  a 
heavenly  calm  at  the  centre  of  all  the  storms  of 
life,  and  a  serene,  bright  sky  above  it,  which  is 
the  eye  of  the  divine  Father;  He  is  the  calm 
centre  and  the  eye  of  the  storm,  and  those  who 
trust  in  Him  will  never  be  moved. 

—  Z.  Mather. 
67 


«  COiMEWHERE  the  sun  is  shining  always," 
and  there  is  never  a  trouble  so  dark  but  the 
great  Father  sends  a  ray  of  light  that  we  may  fix 
our  eyes  upon  it  if  we  will  but  look  up  high 
enough. 

Here  is  a  good  little  bright  side  story,  and  it  is 
perfectly  true,  too  :  A  washerwoman  in  a  miserable 
tenement-house  was  asked  how  she  managed  to 
always  keep  singing  amid  her  discouraging  sur- 
roundings. "  Oh,"  answered  she,  "  because  there 
is  always  a  good,  refreshing  breeze  in  the  alley." 
She  looked  bravely  for  the  bright  side,  then  — 

"  Forgot  that  she  bore  the  burden 
And  carried  away  the  song." 

To  every  such  brave  soul  God  giveth  songs  in 
the  night.  Let  us  assiduously  cultivate  the  profit- 
able habit  of  looking  on  the  bright  side,  for  "  Be- 
hind every  storm  of  trial  and  every  cloud  of  sorrow 
is  the  heavenly  blue  of  Christ's  unchangeable  love." 
—  D.  V.  F.  in  Epworth  Herald. 


CUNRISE  is  on  the  hills,  and  now 

The  world  is  full  of  golden  light. 

The  flowers  in  field  and  wood  are  bright, 

And  birds  sing  on  the  apple  bough. 

******* 

68 


But,  toiling  one,  the  radiant  day 

May  darken  ere  the  noon  be  nigh  ; 

Clouds  may  across  the  blue  deeps  fly. 
Wild  storm-winds  sweep  the  blooms  away, 
And  drive  the  song-birds  from  the  spray  ; 

Or  rainy  eve  may  give  the  lie 
To  the  sweet  promises  that  lay 

At  morn  upon  the  earth  and  sky. 

O  soul,  record  not  now  the  hour; 

Wait  thou,  —  the  sun  shall  shine  again  ; 

Life  shall  not  always  walk  with  pain, 
Nor  poverty  be  all  thy  dower. 
Toil  on  for  truth  and  right,  nor  cower 

To  evil  and  the  mighty  train  ; 
Thy  work  shall  win  the  victor's  power, 

And  thou  shalt  reap  the  golden  grain. 

—  Sarah  E.  Graves. 

WJ^O  shall  despair  while  the  fields  of  earth  are 
sown  with  flowers  and  the  fields  of  heaven 
blossom  with  stars  ?     — Hamilton  Wright  Alabie. 

OAW  the  rainbow  in  the  heaven, 

In  the  eastern  sky,  the  rainbow. 
Whispered,  "  What  is  that,  Nokomis  .•'  " 

69 


And  the  good  Nokomis  answered  : 

*'  'Tis  the  heaven  of  flowers  you  see  there; 

All  the  wild-flowers  of  the  forest, 

All  the  lilies  of  the  prairie, 

When  on  earth  they  fade  and  perish, 

Blossom  in  that  heaven  above  us." 

—  Henry  W.  Longfellow, 

r'\  BEAUTIFUL  rainbow  —  all  woven  of  light ! 
There's  not  in  thy  tissue  one  shadow  of  night : 
Heaven  surely  is  open  when  thou  dost  appear ; 
And,  bending  above  thee,  the  angels  draw  near 
And  sing,  —  The  rainbow  !   the  rainbow  ! 
The  smile  of  God  is  here. 

—  Sarah  'J.  Hale. 

IVrOT  a  thought  of  blue  on  the  sky,  sweetheart  j 

Not  a  thought  of  blue  on  the  sky  ; 
The  gray  white  clouds  are  cold  and  drear 
That  the  north  winds  hustle  by. 

*Stf  'J'  *^  ■I'  *1*  *1* 

*r»  rJ-»  ^^  ^  g^  g^ 

But  under  the  clouds  is  the  sun,  sweetheart: 

And  under  the  ice  is  the  sod; 
Under  the  brown  of  the  stems  are  buds ; 

Over  all  is  the  heart  of  God. 

—  George  Klingle. 


JO 


CTEADILY  the  rain  is  falling, 

In  the  sky  no  blue  appears  ; 
But  the  sun  is  just  behind  the 
Prism  of  those  crystal  tears. 

—  Margaret  Sangster. 

T^HE  dawn  is  not  distant, 

Nor  is  the  night  starless ; 
Love  is  eternal ! 
God  is  still  God,  and 
His  faith  shall  not  fail  us. 

—  Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


COMETH  sunshine  after  rain. 
After  mourning  joy  agam. 
After  heavy,  bitter  grief 
Cometh  surely  sw^eet  relief; 
And  my  soul,  who  from  her  height 
Sank  to  realms  of  woe  and  night, 
Wingeth  now  to  heaven  her  flight. 
******* 
Though  to-day  may  not  fulfil 
All  thy  hopes,  have  patience  still. 
For  perchance  to-morrow's  sun 
Sees  thy  happier  days  begun. 
71 


As  God  willeth  march  the  hours, 
Bringing  joy  at  last  in  showers, 
When  whate'er  we  ask  is  ours  ! 

—  Paul  Gerhardt. 


A     HEALTH  unto  the  happy, 
A  fig  for  him  who  frets. 
It  isn't  raining  rain  to  me. 
It's  raining  violets. 

—  Sidney  Lanier. 


X/ET  listen,  sad  heart,  to  the  glad  refrain 

Of   the  brown-winged   birds   in   the   brown- 
hedged  lane ; 
Summer  has  gone,  but  she  comes  again. 

Sweet  summer  never  can  die  ! 
And  youth,  sweet  youth,  is  immortal  too. 
/\nd  will  bloom  again  as  the  roses  do  ; 
And  love  is  eternal,  and  lights  life  through. 
Though  youth  and  the  rose  go  by  ! 

—  E.  Nesbit. 


72 


T^HE  tiny  ray  of  sunshine  which  stole  in  through 
the  crack  of  the  shutter  yesterday  wrote  with 
its  golden  pen  these  words  upon  the  darkness 
within:  "There  is  a  great  big  world  of  sunshine 
just  like  me  outside."  Don't  keep  sunshine  barred 
out  from  your  soul.  Open  wide  the  shutterSo  Do 
not  interpret  the  meaning  of  life  from  the  dark- 
ness, but  from  the  sunshine  which  falls  upon  it. 
The  joy  of  yesterday  which  crept  into  your  clouded 
life  points  you  to  a  world  that  abounds  with  it. 
The  satisfaction  you  felt  to-day  upon  doing  that 
good  turn  for  another  was  as  a  drop  to  the  ocean  of 
satisfaction  you  will  find  if  you  make  every  other 
day  just  like  this.  — Ram's  Horn. 


T^OES  it  rain  to-day?  Is  it  dark  and  gloomy.? 
That  is  all  right ;  there  must  be  some  stormy 
days.  To-morrow  the  clouds  will  have  a  silvery 
lining  or  disappear  entirely.  Does  the  sun  shine.? 
Enjoy  the  sunshine.  To-morrow  may  be  bright 
also.  Are  you  well  ?  Enjoy  your  health  and  use 
it  to  the  best  advantage.  Are  you  ill  ?  Then  it 
is  a  day  in  which  to  be  patient  and  endure  cheer- 
fully. Are  you  free  from  trouble  ?  Then  it  is  a 
thanksgiving  day.      Are  you  carrying  heavy  bur- 

73 


dens  for  yourself  or  others  ?     Then  it  Is  a  day  for 
the  rolling  ofF  your  burdens  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 

—  Louise  Heywood. 


"\^7"ITH  the  sun  o'erhead,  your  song  of  praise 

Like  the  lark  to  heaven  mounts, 
But  how  will  you  sing  in  the  rainy  days  ? 
For  that  is  what  really  counts. 

—  Langdon  Ballinger. 


TF  your    spirits  are   low,  do  something;  if  you 
have  been  doing   something,  do  something  dif- 
ferent. —  Edward  Everett  Hale. 


nPHERE  is  no  sign  of  dark  or  rain 

On  the  fair  face  of  fruit  and  flower ; 
Yea,  and  no  memory  of  pain 

To  hearts  in  one  glad  triumph  hour; 
But  God,  who  saw  the  way  they  made, 
Knows  where  the  sunshine  met  the  shade. 

Sunshine  and  shower  for  the  world  — 
Quiet  and  tempest,  light  and  shade  — 

Before  one  tiny  leaf  is  curled, 
Before  one  dainty  bud  is  made; 

74 


Some  days  the  storms,  and  some  the  sun, 
Till  all  the  heavenward  growth  be  done. 

—  Nancy  B.  Turner. 


D 


ID  ever  a  shadow  sit  on  one  side  of  the  hearth 
without  an  angel  on  the  other  ? 

—  "James  Buckham. 


"IVTEVER  forget  that  when  God  takes  away  the 
sunlight,  He  always  puts  stars  in  the  sky. 

—  Rose  Porter. 


'V\JV{0  believes  that  God  forgets? 
Hath  He  not  scattered  violets 
With  their  punctual  white  and  blue  ? 
His  the  slender  meadow  rue, 
His  the  evening  primrose  clocks. 
And,  all  the  spongy  meadow  through. 
Gay  marsh-marigolds  in  flocks. 

Who  believes  that  God  forgets  ? 
What  remembrance,  strong  and  clear. 
In  the  cycles  of  the  year : 
Where  the  fragrant  May-time  snows, 
Apple  blossoms  tinged  with  rose, 

75 


Perish,  'mid  our  vain  regrets, 
Ripening  apples,  red  and  green, 
On  denuded  boughs  are  seen. 

Thou  hast  often  God  forgot, 
But  He  in  mercy  changes  not. 
All  the  changing  stars  above, 
All  unchanging  human  love. 
Each  new  heart-beat,  every  breath, 
Cherished  life,  and  hateful  death. 
Tell  that  God  remembereth. 

—  Isaac  Ogden  Rankin. 

nPHERE  is  no  day  so  dark. 

But  through  the  murk  some  ray  of  hope  may 
steal. 
Some  blessed  touch  from  heaven,  that  we  may  feel 
If  we  but  choose  to  mark. 

We  shut  the  portals  fast 
And  turn  the  key,  and  let  no  sunshine  in  ; 
Yet  the  worst  despair  that  comes  through  sin 
God's  light  shall  reach  at  last. 

—  Cel'ia  Thaxter. 

T^HERE   is  always  the  sunshine,  only  we  must 
do  our  part,  we  must  move  into  it. 

—  Clara  Louise  Burnham. 
76 


"  W^^'^^^'-^^  *^^  weather  may  be,"  says  he, 

"  Whatever  the  weather  may  be. 
It's  the  songs  ye  sing,  and  the  smiles  ye  wear, 
That's  makin'  the  sun  shine  everywhere." 

—  yames  JVhitcomb  Riley. 

T  TPON  the  sadness  of  the  sea 

The  sunset  broods  regretfully; 
From  the  far  lonely  spaces  slow 
Withdraws  the  wistful  afterglow.  ■ 

So  out  of  life  the  splendor  dies ; 
So  darken  all  the  happy  skies ; 
So  gathers  twilight,  cold  and  stern ; 
But  overhead  the  planets  burn. 

And  up  the  east  another  day 
Shall  chase  the  bitter  dark  away  ; 
What  though  our  eyes  with  tears  are  wet  ? 
The  sunrise  never  failed  us  yet. 

The  blush  of  dawn  may  yet  restore 
Our  light,  and  hope,  and  joy  once  more ; 
Sad  soul,  take  comfort,  nor  forget 
That  sunrise  never  failed  us  yet. 

—  Celia  Thaxter. 


11 


IV 


79 


Own,  if  you  can,  one  of  those  welcome 
faces  that  bring  the  sunshine  to  Hfe's  shad- 
owed places. 

—  Nixon  Waterman, 

Blest  power  of  sunshine  !  genial  day. 
What  balm,  what  life  are  in  thy  ray. 

—  John  Milton. 


80 


SUNSHINE 

Al/HY  not  cast  a  gleam  of  sunshine  over  Life's 
rough  road  to-day  ? 

Why  not  brighten  up  the  shady  spots  we  find  along 
the  way  ? 

Just  a  little  smile  will  do  it ;  or  a  kindly  word  to 
show 

We  appreciate  the  efforts  of  our  fellow-beings  so 

That  we  wish  to  let  them  know  it  by  a  friendly 
glance  or  nod 

Which  shall  surely  help  them  upward  on  their  pil- 
grimage to  God. 

Just  a  willing  hand  to  strengthen  and  a  pleasant 

smile  to  cheer, 
Just  a  loving  word  of  comfort  to  the  heart  o'er- 

come  with  fear. 
Just  a  little  thoughtful  kindness  shown  to  each  one 

we  may  meet, 
Sends  the  sunshine  o'er  life's  rugged  road  and  rests 

the  weary  feet, 

8i 


And  they're  each  so  easily  given  that  it  seems  a 

shame  to  miss 
Such  a  splendid  opportunity  to  "  help  along "  as 

'^'^'  —  M.  Gertrude  Robinson. 


"D  ESOLVE   to  keep  happy,  and   your  joy  and 
you    shall    form    an    invincible    host   against 
difficulties.  •      _  Helen  Keller. 


TOY  in  the  heart  makes  cheer  in  the  face. 


"  T  JIST  likes  to  let  her  in  at  the  door,"  said 
Mary,  the  housemaid,  of  a  woman  who  always 
looked  bright  and  cheery  ;  "  the  face  of  her  does 
one  good,  shure ! "  People  like  sunny-faced 
women,  who  look  habitually  on  the  positive,  opti- 
mistic side  of  life,  and  who  are,  as  Ralph  Waldo 
Trine  happily  puts  it,  "  in  tune  with  the  Infinite." 
They  unconsciously  radiate  a  helpful  influence. 
As  they  are  full  of  the  magnetism  and  vitality  born 
of  hope,  and  an  unshaken  belief  in  the  highest  and 
best  things  in  human  life,  it  could  not  be  otherwise 
with  them.  As  they  are  related  to  all  that  is 
strong  and  uplifting  on  both  spiritual  and  physical 

82 


planes,  it  would   be   strange  if  they  did  not  create 
an  atmosphere  helpful  to  all  who  enter  it. 

—  Orison  Swett  Mar  den. 

CO  others  shall 

Take  patience,  labor,  to  their  heart  and  hand. 
From  thy  hand  and  thy  heart  and  thy  brave  cheer, 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all. 
The  least  flower,  with  a  brimming  cup,  may  stand 
And  share  its  dewdrops  with  another  near. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 


r^HEER,  what  is  it  ? 

The  blossom  of  a  loving  heart. 
The  perfume  of  a  happy  word. 


I 


HAVE  told  you  of  the  man  who  always  put  on 
his  spectacles  when  about  to  eat  cherries,  in 
order  that  the  fruit  might  look  larger  and  more 
tempting. 

In  like  manner  I  always  make  the  most  of  my 
enjoyments,  and,  though  I  do  not  cast  my  eye 
away  from  troubles,  I  pack  them  up  into  as  small 
a  compass  as  I  can  for  myself,  and  never  let 
them  annoy  others.  —  Robert  Southey. 

83 


TS  not  the  man  or  woman  who  puts  on  magnifying 
glasses  to  make  the  pleasures  that  come  look  as 
great  as  possible,  much  wiser  than  he  or  she  who 
puts  on  smoked  glasses  and  at  once  declares  that 
even  the  sunshine  is  dark,  and  there  is  nothing  but 
dense  gloom  everywhere  ? 

To  be  sure,  troubles  come  to  all  of  us  ;  but  we 
know  that  if  God  sends  us  on  stony  paths,  he  will 
provide  us  with  strong  shoes.  What  a  happy, 
blessed  thing  it  would  be  for  all  of  us  if  we  would 
implicitly  trust  God's  promises  !  Our  lives  would 
then  be  as  bright  and  cheery  as  a  sunshiny  winter 
day.  And  why  is  it  that  we  do  not  trust  Him  im- 
plicitly ?  He  has  told  us  that  all  things  work 
together  for  our  good  if  we  but  love  Him ;  and  if 
we  would  but  take  Him  at  His  word,  even  the 
shadowy  parts  of  life  would  become  radiant  with 
the  reflection  of  His  tender  love  and  care. 

It  is  a  blessed  privilege  to  talk  over  our  troubles 
to  our  Heavenly  Father,  but  it  is  not  at  all 
necessary  for  us  to  be  forever  harping  upon  them 
to  our  friends.  We  should,  like  Robert  Southey, 
"  pack  them  into  as  small  a  compass  as  possible 
for  ourselves,  and  never  allow  them  to  annoy 
others." 

—  D.  V.  F.  in  Epworth  Herald. 
84 


A    MERRY  heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine. 

—  Proverbs. 


"TJTOW  grateful  we  ought  to  be,"  exclaims 
Henry  Ward  Beecher,  "  when  God  sends 
us  a  natural  heart-singer  who  calms,  cheers,  and 
helps  his  fellows  !  "  There  are  natural  heart- 
singers  to  whom  songs  and  smiles  come  as  spon- 
taneously as  sighs  and  tears  to  others.  The  latter 
have  been  unfortunate  in  their  heredity,  or  early 
environment,  or  training,  for  a  normal  man  or 
woman  is  cheerful,  healthy,  and  optimistic,  while 
an  abnormal  one  is  gloomy,  unhealthy,  and  pessi- 
mistic. Clouds  and  sunshine  alternate  in  every 
life.  Those  who  prefer  to  sulk  in  the  shadow, 
when  the  sun  is  shining,  have  none  but  themselves 
to  blame  if  all  the  world  seems  dark  and  miserable. 

—  Orison  Swett  Mar  den. 


"VX/'HOEVER  would  be  fairer,  illumination  must 
begin   in   the  soul.     The  face  catches   the 
glow  only  from  that  side. 

—  Rev.  W.  C.  Gannett. 

«5 


TJTAPPINESS  comes  from  the  concords  of  one's 
own   nature  and   not   from  outward  circum- 
stances. —  Henry  Ward  Beecher, 


A /TUSIC  must  be  In  the  heart,  or  it  will  come 
out  of  the  fingers,  notes,  not  music. 

—  Charles  Reade. 


\70U  may  bear  the  sunshine  wherever  you  go. 
For  a  smiling  face  is  the  face  to  show, 

And  the  world  hath  need  of  your  cheer. 
Why  add  to  its  burden  of  groans  and  sighs  ? 
'Twere  better,  my  friends,  to  call  to  its  eyes 

A  smile  instead  of  a  tear. 

Be  brave  and  be  glad,  and  your  joy  will  rest, 
Like  a  nested  bird,  in  some  troubled  breast ; 

Some  heart  v/ith  its  sore  repining 
Will  find  the  star  in  the  midnight  sky 
And  catch  the  gleam  as  the  clouds  drift  by 

Of  the  radiant  silver  lining.  — Anon. 


TTEARTS,   like   plants,   must  live   in   the   sun- 
shine to  thrive. 

86 


TT'HE  only  way  to  keep  happiness  is  to  give  it. 
We  save  it  when  we  scatter ,it  everywhere. 


T  LIVE   on   the   sunny  side  of  the  street ;  shady 
folks    live  on  the  other.      I   have  always   pre- 
ferred the   sunshine,   and  have  tried   to   put   other 
people  there,  if  only  for  an  hour  or  two  at  a  time. 

—  M.  P.  Wilder. 

'X'HE  world  delights  in  sunny  people.  The  old 
are  hungering  for  love  more  than  for  bread. 
The  air  of  joy  is  very  cheap  ;  and,  if  you  can  help 
the  poor  on  with  a  garment  of  praise,  it  will  be 
better  for  them  than  blankets. 

—  Henry  Drummond. 

T^HIS  world   is   only  a  place   of  pilgrimage,  but 
after  all  there  is  a  good  deal  of  cheer  on  the 
journey,  if  it  is  made  with  a  contented  heart. 

—  Henry  Van  Dyke. 

nPHE  Lord  said  two  things  to  Abraham  :  "  I  will 
bless  thee,"  and  "  Be  thou  a  blessing."    When 
God  makes  us  glad  the  gladness  is  not  to  end  with 
ourselves  —  we  are  to  pass  it  on. 

—  J.  R.  Miller. 

87 


/'~^OURAGE  and  cheerfulness  will  not  only  take 
you  over  hard  places  of  life,  but  will  enable 
you  to  bring  comfort  and  help  to  the  weak-hearted, 
and  will  console  you  in  the  sad  hours  when,  like 
Uncle  Toby,  you  have  "  to  whistle  that  you  may 
not  weep."  — Dr.  Osier. 


'T'HERE  are  only  two  kinds  of  people  in  the 
world  —  the  people  who  live  in  the  shadow 
and  gloom  and  those  who  live  on  the  sunny  side  of 
the  street.  These  shadowed  ones  are  sometimes 
called  pessimists  ;  sometimes,  people  of  melancholy 
temperament ;  sometimes  they  are  called  disagreea- 
ble people  ;  but,  wherever  they  go,  their  character- 
istic is  this  :  their  shadow  always  travels  on  before 
them.  .  .  .  These  people  never  bear  their  own 
burdens,  but  expose  all  their  wounds  to  others. 
They  are  all  so  busy  looking  down  for  pitfalls  and 
sharp  stones  and  thorns  on  which  to  step  that  they 
do  not  even  know  that  there  are  any  stars  in  the 
sky.  These  folks  live  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
street.  And  yet  it  is  only  twenty  feet  across  to 
the  other  sidewalk,  where  sunshine  always  lies. 

—  Newell  Dwight  Hillis. 
88 


B 


EAR  in  mind  that  your  happiness  or  your  mis- 
ery is  very  much  of  your  own  making.  You 
cannot  create  spiritual  sunlight  any  more  than  you 
can  create  the  morning  star ;  but  you  can  put  your 
soul  where  Christ  is  shining.  Keep  a  clean  con- 
science. Keep  a  good  stock  of  God's  promises 
within  reach.  Keep  a  nightingale  of  hope  in  your 
soul  that  can  sing  away  the  dark  hours  when  they 
do  come.  _x,  L.  Cuyler. 


T  TOW  fond  we  are  of  thinking  about  what  we 
have  not,  instead  of  about  what  we  have ! 
It  has  been  well  said  that  "  some  people's  cast-off 
happiness,  like  their  cast-off  clothes,  would  make 
some  other  people  very  happy."  The  cheeriest 
lives  are  not  those  that  have  the  most,  but  those  that 
appreciate  the  most.  Every  one  of  us  has  a  gold- 
mine of  unworked  joy  close  at  hand.  But  gold 
needs  searching  for  —  are  you  finding  yours  ? 

—  Western  Christian  Advocate. 


]^EEP  yourself  sunny  and  the  Lord  will  take 

Woman^s  Magazine. 


care  of  your  saintliness 


89 


"SERVE  GOD  AND  BE  CHEERFUL" 

The  motto  of  an  English  bishop  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

"  CERVE  God  and  be  cheerful."     The  motto 

Shall  be  mine,  as  the  bishop's  of  old ; 
On  my  soul's  coat-of-arms  I  will  write  it 
In  letters  of  azure  and  gold. 

******* 
"  Serve  God  and  be  cheerful."     Religion 
Looks  all  the  more  lovely  in  white ; 
And  God  is  best  served  by  His  servant 
When,  smiling,  he  serves  in  the  light, 

And  lives  out  the  glad  tidings  of  Jesus 
In  the  sunshine  He  came  to  impart. 
For  the  fruit  of  His  word  and  His  spirit 
"  Is  love,  joy,  and  peace  "  in  the  heart. 

"  Serve  God  and  be  cheerful."      Live  nobly. 
Do  right  and  do  good.      Make  the  best 
Of  the  gifts  and  the  work  put  before  you, 
And  to  God  without  fear  leave  the  rest. 

—  William  Newell. 


H 


E  who  cheers  others  need  not  fear  for  himself. 

90 


T "^7"HY  do  we  not  always  smile  when  we  meet  a 
fellow-being  ?  That  is  the  true  recognition 
which  ought  to  pass  from  soul  to  soul.  Little 
children  do  this  involuntarily.  The  honest-hearted 
German  peasant  does  it.  It  is  the  magical  sun- 
light all  through  that  simple  land,  the  perpetual 
greeting  on  the  right  hand  or  the  left  between 
strangers  as  they  pass  each  other,  never  without  a 
smile.  This  then  is  the  "  fine  art  of  smiling," 
like  all  fine  art,  true  art,  perfection  of  art,  the 
simplest  following  of  nature. 

—  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 

"  TT'S  not  so  much  what  you  have  as  what  you 
are  that  makes  your  heaven."  The  bright 
cheery  soul  who  lives  the  life  of  trust  only  sees  the 
sunny  side  of  everything  ;  she  has  learned  to  en- 
dure cheerfully  and  wear  a  bright  face  when  every- 
thing: looks  dark.  — Jnon. 


nPHERE   is  no  greater  perversion  of   Christian 
truth  than  to  maintain  that  the  Saviour  taught 
that  to  make  one's  self  miserable  is  the  means  of 
attaining  future  blessedness. 

—  y.  L.  Spaulding. 

91 


"X^rHATEVER  adds  in  even  the  smallest  way  to 
the  world's  brightness  and  cheer  is  worth 
while.  One  who  plants  a  flower  in  a  bare  place 
where  only  bleakness  was  before  is  a  benefactor. 
One  who  says  an  encouraging  word  to  a  disheart- 
ened neighbor,  gives  a  look  of  love  to  a  lonely  one, 
or  speaks  a  sentence  which  may  become  strength, 
guidance,  or  comfort  to  another,  does  something 
worth  while.  We  never  know  how  small  a  thing 
may  become  a  benediction  to  a  human  life. 

Only  a  thought,  but  the  work  it  wrought 
Could  never  by  pen  or  tongue  be  taught ; 
For  it  ran  through  a  life  like  a  thread  of  gold, 
And  the  life  bore  fruit  a  hundredfold. 

It  was  worth  while  for  David  to  write  the 
Twenty-third  Psalm  to  go  singing  everywhere  to 
the  end  of  time.  It  was  worth  while  for  Mary  to 
break  the  alabaster  vase,  pouring  the  nard  on  the  head 
and  feet  of  the  Master ;  all  the  world  is  sweeter  ever 
since  from  the  perfume  of  her  ointment.  Every 
singer  who  has  sung  a  pure,  joyous  song  has  given 
something  to  earth  to  make  it  better.  Every  artist 
who  has  painted  a  worthy  and  noble  picture,  or 
made  the  smallest  thing  of  beauty  which  will  stay 
in  the  world,  has  added  something  to  the  enriching 

92 


of  our  human  life.  Every  lowly  Christian  who 
has  lived  a  true,  courageous  life  amid  temptation 
and  trial  has  made  it  a  little  easier  for  others  to 
live  right.  Every  one  who  has  let  fall  into  the 
stream  of  this  world's  life  wholesome  words,  good 
words,  divine  lessons,  has  put  into  the  current  of 
humanity  a  handful  of  spices  to  sweeten  a  little  the 
bitter  waters.  It  is  always  worth  while  to  live 
nobly,  victoriously,  struggling  to  do  right,  showing 
the  world  even  the  smallest  fragments  of  divine 
beauty.  —  J.  R.  Mi  Her. 


OHE  was  a  gracious  old  lady,  whose  calm,  kindly 
face,  even  at  threescore,  was  rarely,  or  never 
darkened  by  a  frown. 

"  There's  sure  to  be  a  good  many  cloudy  days 
mixed  up  with  the  sunshiny  ones  in  this  world," 
she  said  once  to  a  visitor.  "  I've  known  what  it 
was  to  be  under  the  clouds  myself,  now  and 
again"  —  the  serene  old  face  grew  thoughtful,  but 
not  sad  —  "  but  I've  always  tried  to  remember  that 
the  sun  was  shining  somewhere  behind  the  clouds, 
though  I  couldn't  see  it.  And  then  there  are  the 
blessings  by  the  way." 

The  visitor  looked  into  the  faded  blue  eyes,  a 

93 


bit  dimmed  with  age,  but  untroubled.  So  that 
was  the  secret,  was  it  ?  Just  living  in  the  sun- 
shine, even  when  the  sun  was  not  shining,  by  keep- 
ing up  a  firm  faith  that  the  sun  was  there  all  the 
while.  And  this  —  "  blessings  by  the  way."  The 
visitor  repeated  the  words  with  the  slightest  ques- 
tioning inflection.  "  I  think  I  understand  what 
you  mean  —  indeed,  I'm  sure  I  do,  but  —  " 

"  It  is  a  help  sometimes  to  have  another  body 
just  say  over  what's  plain  as  daylight  to  you,"  as- 
sented Mrs.Lindley,  smiling.  "It  seems  plainer 
after  that,  or,  may  be,  plain  in  another  way.  I've 
fallen  into  the  habit  of  calling  the  little  things  that 
bring  us  comfort  or  pleasure,  and  that  we  often 
don't  think  much  about,  wayside  blessings.  They're 
like  the  pretty,  sweet-smelling  flowers  that  help  us 
forget  the  rough  road ;  or  shade  trees  and  a  cool, 
bubbling  spring,  when  we're  hot  and  thirsty.  It's 
wonderful  how  many  of  them  there  are  when  one 
gets  into  the  way  of  looking  for  them." 

—  Charles  T.  White. 


T~^0  not  keep  the  alabaster  boxes  of  your  love 

and  tenderness  sealed   up  until  your   friends 

are  dead.     Fill  their  lives  with  sweetness.     Speak 

94 


approving,  cheering  words  while  their  ears  can 
hear  them,  and  while  their  hearts  can  be  thrilled 
and  made  happier  by  them  ;  the  kind  things  you 
mean  to  say  when  they  are  gone,  say  before  they 
go.  The  flowers  you  mean  to  send  for  their 
coffins,  send  to  brighten  and  sweeten  their  homes 
before  they  leave  them.  If  my  friends  have  ala- 
baster boxes  laid  away,  full  of  fragrant  perfumes  of 
sympathy  and  affection,  which  they  intend  to 
break  over  my  dead  body,  I  would  rather  they 
would  bring  them  out  in  my  weary  and  troubled 
hours,  and  open  them,  that  I  may  be  refreshed  and 
cheered  bv  them  while  I  need  them.  I  would 
rather  have  a  plain  coffin  without  a  flower,  a 
funeral  without  an  eulogy,  than  a  life  without  the 
sweetness  of  love  and  sympathy.  Let  us  learn  to 
anoint  our  friends  beforehand  for  their  burial. 
Post  mortem  kindness  does  not  cheer  the  troubled 
spirit.  Flowers  on  the  coffin  cast  no  fragrance 
backward  over  life's  weary  way.  Anon. 


T  OVING  words  will  cost  but  little. 

Journeying  up  the  hill  of  life  ; 
But  they  make  the  weak  and  weary 
Stronger,  braver,  for  the  strife. 

95 


Do  you  count  them  only  trifles  ? 
What  to  earth  are  sun  and  rain  ? 
Never  was  a  kind  word  wasted  j 
Never  was  one  said  in  vain.  —  Jnon. 


OMILES  are  contagious,  so  are  tears. 

—  Horace. 


npO  the  sunny  soul  that  is  full  of  hope, 

And  whose  beautiful  trust  ne'er  faileth, 
The  grass  is  green,  and  the  flowers  are  bright. 
Though  the  wintry  storm  prevaileth. 

—  M.  A.  Kidder. 


"VJAY,  lift  up  thankful  eyes,  my  sweet ! 

Count  equal,  loss  and  gain. 
Because  as  long  as  this  world  lasts 
Green  leaves  will  come  again. 

For  sure  as  earth  lies  under  snows. 
And  love  lies  under  pain, 
'Tis  good  to  sing  with  everything. 
When  green  leaves  come  again. 

—  D.  M.  Mulock. 
96 


'T^HE  earth  is  rolling  sunward, 
And  light  shall  come  at  last. 

—  F.  Campana. 


HTHE  power  to  scatter  sunshine,  and  to  radiate 
gladness  and  good  cheer,  every  one  should 
cultivate.  Force  yourself,  if  necessary,  to  form  a 
habit  of  seeing  the  best  in  people,  of  finding  out 
their  good  qualities,  and  of  dwelling  upon  them 
and  enlarging  them.  Do  not  see  the  distorted, 
crooked,  cramped,  burlesque  man,  but  the  man 
that  God  made.  Ruskin  says,  "  Do  not  think  of 
your  faults  ;  still  less  of  others'  faults."  In  every 
person  who  comes  near  you,  look  for  what  is  good 
and  strong.  Honor  that ;  rejoice  in  it ;  and  as 
you  can,  try  to  imitate  it,  and  your  faults  will  drop 
off  like  dead  leaves  when  the  time  comes. 

—  Success. 


p)  UILD  a  little  fence  of  trust 

Around  to-day  ; 
Fill  the  space  with  loving  work. 

And  therein  stay. 
Look  not  through  the  sheltering  bars 

Upon  to-morrow ; 

97 


God  will  help  thee  bear  what  comes 
Of  joy  or  sorrow. 

—  Mary  Frances  Butts. 


"  \70U  can  find  your  niche  in  the  world  when 
your  heart  is   warm,  and  your  face    light 


with  good  cheer." 


\\0  any  hearts  beat  faster, 
Do  any  faces  brighten 
To  hear  your  footstep  on  the  stair  ? 

—  Wellspring. 

"  T    ITTLE  by  little  the  time  goes  by  — 

Short  if  you  sing  it ;  long  if  you  sigh." 


/^H,  the  rain  and  the  sun,  and  the  sun  and  the 

rain  ! 
When    the    tempest    is    done,   then   the   sunshine 

again ; 
And   in   rapture   we'll  ride  through  the   stormiest 

gales. 
For  God's  hand's  on  the  helm,  and  his  breath  in 

the  sails. 

98 


Then  murmur  no  more, 
In  lull  or  in  roar, 
But  smile  and  be  brave  till  the  voyage  is  o'er. 

—  "James  Whitcomh  Riley. 

T^OR  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats 
That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 
If,  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer. 
Both    for    themselves    and    those  who    call    them 

friends  ? 
For  so  the  whole  round  world  is  every  way 
Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God. 

—  Alfred  Tennyson. 

/'^ONSIDER  this,  your  goodness  is  of  no  use  if 
you  are  not  good  to  others.  The  good  of 
goodness  is  that  you  can  wrap  others  inside  it.  It 
ought  to  be  like  a  big  cloak  that  you  have  on  a 
cold  night,  while  the  shivering  person  next  to  you 
has  none.  If  you  don't  make  use  of  your  good- 
ness, what  is  the  good  of  it  ?      —  Mrs.  Clifford. 

nPHE  test  of  your  Christian  character  should  be 
that  you  are  a  joy-bearing  agent  to  the  world. 
—  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

99 


'  I  "HE    man    who    cannot    be    strong,    cheerful, 
creative,  in  his  own  age,  would  find  all  other 
ages  inhospitable  and  barren. 

—  Hamilton  W.  Mabie. 


'\"\7"HAT  is  property  after  all?  The  law  says 
there  are  two  kinds,  real  and  personal. 
But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  only  real  property  is 
that  which  is  truly  personal,  that  which  we  take 
into  our  inner  life  and  make  our  own  forever,  by 
understanding  and  admiration,  and  sympathy  and 
love.  This  is  the  only  kind  of  possession  that  is 
worth  anything.  —  Henry  van  Dyke. 


"XTO  one  can  give  what  is  not  possessed  in  one's 
self,  and  these  greater  gifts  of  courage,  hope, 
love,  and  goodness  cost  the  giver  more  than  money, 
for  it  is  infinitely  harder  to  be  than  to  do. 

—  Jnon. 


"V'X yOULD  you  make  some  saddened  heart 

Just  a  little  lighter  ? 
Would  you  make  some  burdened  life 

Just  a  little  brighter  ? 

100 


Drop  a  word  of  hope  and  cheer, 

Set  the  echoes  ringing 
With  your  notes  of  love  and  joy, 

As  you  go  a-singing, 

—  E.  A.  Brininstool. 


"  T  JES'  do  the  best  I  ken  where  the  good  Lord 
put   me  at,  an'  it  looks  like  I  got  a  happy 
feelin'  in  me  'most  all  the  time." 

—  Mrs.  Wiggs  in  Lovey  Mary. 


T 


HE  effort  to  be  always  cheerful,  kind,  con- 
siderate,  and  gentle,  no  matter  what  wars 
may  be  rankling  in  the  heart,  has  a  great  influence 
in  transforming  the  life. 

I  know  a  lady  who  has  made  it  a  habit  of  her 
life  to  radiate  sunshine  everywhere  she  goes.  She 
says  that  a  smile  costs  nothing.  The  result  is 
that  everybody  who  waits  upon  her  or  does  any- 
thing for  her  feels  it  a  real  favor  to  serve  her, 
because  he  is  always  sure  of  getting  this  inde- 
scribably sweet   smile  and  expression  in   return. 

What  a  satisfaction  it  is  to  go  through  life  radi- 
ating sunshine  and  hope  instead  of  despair,  en- 
couragement   instead    of   discouragement,  and    to 

lOI 


feel  conscious  that  even  the  newsboy  or  the  boot- 
black, the  car  conductor,  the  office  boy,  the  ele- 
vator boy,  or  anybody  else  vi'ith  whom  one  comes 
in  contact,  gets  a  little  dash  of  sunshine.  It  costs 
nothing  when  you  buy  a  paper  of  a  boy,  or  get 
your  shoes  shined,  or  pass  into  an  elevator,  or  give 
your  fare  to  a  conductor,  to  give  a  smile  with  it, 
to  make  these  people  feel  that  you  have  a  warm 
heart  and  good-will.  Such  salutations  will  mean 
more  to  us  than  many  of  the  so-called  great  things. 
It  is  the  small  change  of  life.  Give  it  out  freely. 
The  more  you  give,  the  richer  you  will  grow. 

—  Orison  Swett  Marden. 


SCATTER   SUNSHINE 

"pUT  a  bit  of  sunshine  in  the  day; 

Others  need  its  cheer  and  so  do  you  — 
Need  it  most  when  outer  sky's  dull  gray 
Leaves  the  sunshine-making  yours  to  do. 

Give  the  day  a  streak  of  rosy  dawn  ; 

Give  it,  too,  a  touch  of  highest  noon  ; 
Make  the  ones  about  you  wonder  why 

Sunset  crimson  should  appear  "so  soon." 

102 


Sunshine-making  is  a  blessed  task  ; 

Cheery  hearts,  like  lovely,  wide  blue  sky, 
Banish  weary  gloom  and  give  fresh  hope. 

Check  the  rising  tear  or  thoughtless  sigh. 

Put  the  golden  sunshine  in  each  day  ; 

Others  need  the  cheer  that  comes  through  you  ■ 
Need  it  most  when  outer  sky's  dull  gray 

Leaves  the  sunshine-making  yours  to  do. 

—  'Juniata  Stafford. 


/^ATCH  the  sunshine  !      Don't  be  grieving 

O'er  that  darksome  billow  there  ! 
Life's  a  sea  of  stormy  billows, 

We  must  meet  them  everywhere. 
Pass  right  through  them  !      Do  not  tarry. 

Overcome  the  heaving  tide. 
There's  a  sparkling  gleam  of  sunshine 

Waiting  on  the  other  side.  —  Anon. 


nPHE   laughter  of   life  is  its  sunshine,   and  this 
would    be    a    dull    old    world    without    some 
happy  natures  to  lighten  the  pathway  of  those  that 
plod  away  in  sorrow. 

103 


"LTAVE  you  any  cheery  greeting? 

Tell  it  out  to-day  ; 
While  you  wait,  the  friend  and  message 
May  have  gone  away. 

—  E.  H.  Shannon. 


T    IFE,  believe,  is  not  a  dream 

So  dark  as  sages  say ; 
Oft  a  little  morning  rain 

Foretells  a  pleasant  day. 
Sometimes  there  are  clouds  of  gloom, 

But  these  are  transient  all ; 
If  the  shower  will  make  the  roses  bloom, 
Oh  !  why  lament  its  fall  ? 

—  Charlotte  Bronte. 


T  FIND  earth  not  gray  but  rosy. 

Heaven  not  grim  but  fair  of  hue. 
Do  I  stoop  ?     I  pluck  a  posy. 

Do  I  stand  and  stare  ?      All's  blue. 

—  Browning. 

104 


/^LADNESS  be  with  thee,  Helper  of  our  world  ! 

I  think  this  is  the  authentic  sign  and  seal 
Of  Godship,  that  it  ever  waxes  glad, 
And  more  glad,  until  gladness  blossoms,  bursts 
Into  a  rage  to  suffer  for  mankind. 
And  recommence  at  sorrow  :  drops  like  seed 
After  the  blossom,  ultimate  of  all. 
Say,  does  the  seed  scorn  earth  and  seek  the  sun  ? 
Surely  it  has  no  other  end  and  aim 
Than  to  drop,  once  more  die  into  the  ground. 
Taste  cold  and  darkness  and  oblivion  there ; 
And  thence  rise,  tree-like  grow  through  pain  to  joy, 
More  joy  and  most  joy  —  do  man  good  again. 

—  Robert  Browning. 


TI^VERY  hardship,  every  joy,  every  temptation, 
is  a  challenge  of  the  spirit,  that  the  human 
soul  may  prove  itself.  The  great  chain  of  neces- 
sity wherewith  we  are  bound  has  divine  significance, 
and  nothing  happens  which  has  not  some  service 
to  perform  in  working  out  the  sublime  destiny  of 
the  human  soul.  —  Ellis  A.  Ford. 


105 


V 


107 


Would  you  have"^your  songs  endure  ? 
Build  on  the  human  heart ! 

—  Robert  Browning. 

Singing  our  songs  as  we  go  our  way, 
Do  we  know  who  may  be  leaning  to  hear  ? 

—  Anna  C.  Brackett. 


io8 


THE   IMMORTAL  NOTE 

T   KNOW  that  love  is  never  w^asted, 

Nor  truth,  nor  the  breath  of  a  prayer ; 
And  the  thought  that  goes  forth  as  a  blessing 
Must  live,  as  a  joy  in  the  air. 

—  Lucy  Larcom. 


ly'INDNESS  is  the  music  of  good-will  to  men, 
and  on  this  harp,    the  smallest  fingers    may 
play  Heaven's  sweetest  tunes  on  earth. 

—  Elihu  Burrett. 


TN  the  still  air  the  music  lies  unheard  ; 

In  the  rough  marble  beauty  lies  unseen  ; 
To  make  the  music  and  the  beauty  needs 

The  master's  touch,  the  sculptor's  chisel  keen. 

Great  Master,  touch  us  with  Thy  skilful  hand ; 

Let  not  the  music  that  is  in  us  die  ! 
Great  sculptor,  hew  and  polish  us  ;  nor  let. 
Hidden  and  lost.  Thy  form  within  us  lie  ! 

—  Horatius  Bonar. 
109 


TN    sweet    sympathy   the  heart    sings    its  loving 
ministries  to  many  a  wounded  spirit. 


/^H,  to  scatter  blessings  broadcast,  to  give  with- 
out wish  for  return,  to  do  good  for  the  joy  of 
it,  to  toss  your  good-will  and  heartiness  right  and 
left  among  men  ;  to  bring  a  smile  to  wan  faces, 
hope  into  dull  eyes,  sunshine  into  dark  corners,  and 
so  touch  men's  lives  that  they  shall  feel  the  pass- 
ing of  some  benign  influence,  the  presence  of 
something  divine  —  here  are  aims  ! 

—  Stanton  K.  Davis. 


/^H,  help  us  that  these   faces    of  our    own    be 
peace  and  joy  and  strength   and  sunny  sum- 
mer days  to  our  friends. 


npHE  widow's  cruse  of  oil  and  barrel  of  meal  in- 
creased as  she  distributed  them;  and  a  Chris- 
tian's sunshine  and  happiness,  faith  and  hope,  will 
be  invigorated  and  multiplied  in  proportion  as  he 
tries  to  make  others  hopeful,  trustful,  and  happy. 

—  yohn  Cumming. 
no 


»'X'IS  a  little  thing 

To  give  a  cup  of  water  j  yet  its  draught 
Of  cool  refreshment,  drained  by  fevered  lips, 
May  give  a  shock  of  pleasure  to  the  frame 
More  exquisite  than  when  nectarian  juice 
Renews  the  life  of  joy  in  happiest  hours. 

It  is  a  little  thing  to  speak  a  phrase 

Of  common  comfort,  which  by  daily  use 

Has  almost  lost  its  sense  ;  yet  on  the  ear 

Of  him  who  thought  to  die  unrenowned,  'twill  fall 

Like  choicest  music ;  fill  the  glazing  eye 

With  gentle  tears  ;   relax  the  knotted  hand 

To  know  the  bonds  of  fellowship  again; 

And  shed  on  the  departing  soul  a  sense, 

(More  precious  than  the  benison  of  friends 

About  the  honored  deathbed  of  the  rich) 

To  him  who  else  were  lonely,  and  another 

Of  the  great  family  is  near  and  feels. 

—  Talfourd. 


T^HERE  is  comfort  in  the  strength  of  love; 
'Twill  make  a  thing  endurable,  which  else 
Would  overset  the  brain  or  break  the  heart. 

—  IVilliam  Wordsworth. 
Ill 


\/OU  must  love  in  order  to  understand  love. 
One  act  of  charity  w^ill  teach  us  more  of  the 
love  of  God  than  a  thousand  sermons.  One  act 
of  unselfishness,  of  real  self-denial,  w^ill  tell  us 
more  of  the  meaning  of  the  Epiphany  than  whole 
volumes  on  theology.  —  F.  W.  Robertson. 


T^O  the  giver  shall  be  given  ; 

If  thou  wouldst  w^alk  in  light 
Make  other  spirits  bright ; 
Who,    seeking    for    himself    alone,    ever    entered 

heaven  ? 
In  blessing  we  are  blest. 
In  labor  find  out  rest ; 
If  we    bend   not    to  the   world's  work,  heart  and 

hand  and  brain. 
We  have  lived  our  life  in  vain.      —  C.  Seymour. 


TNASMUCH  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of   these   my  brethren,  ye  have  done   it 
unto  me.  —  Matthew  25 :  /{.o. 


112 


'X'HE    only  love  worthy  of   the  name  ever  and 
alw^ays  uplifts.  —  George  Macdonald. 


'  I  "HE  sweetest  lives  are  those  to  duty  wed, 

Whose  deeds,  both  great  and  small. 
Are  close-knit  strands  of  an  unbroken  thread, 

Where  love  ennobles  all. 
The  world  may  sound  no  trumpets,  ring  no  bells; 
The  Book  of  Life  the  shining  record  tells. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 


TLJAPPINESS,  like   mercy,  is   twice  blessed ;  it 
blesses  those  who  are  most   intimately  asso- 
ciated in  it,  and  it  blesses  all  those  who  see  it,  hear 
it,  feel  it,  touch  it,  or  breathe  the  same  atmosphere 

—  Kate  Douglas  Wiggin. 


'T^HEN  hide  it  not,  the  music  of  the  soul. 

Dear  sympathy,  expressed  with  kindly  voice. 
But  let  it  like  a  shining  river,  roll 
To  deserts  dry  —  to  hearts  that  would  rejoice 
Oh  !   let  the  symphony  of  kindly  words 
Sound  for  the   poor,  the  friendless,  and   the  weak; 

^^3 


And  He  will   bless  you — He  who  struck  those 

chords 
Will  strike  another  when  in  turn  you  seek. 

—  John  Boyle  O'Reilly. 


•y  HERE'S  a  world  of  capability 

For  joy  spread  round  about  us,  meant  for  us, 
Inviting  us.  —  Robert  Browning. 


T    IFE  is  a  schoolhouse.      Its  rooms  may  be  bare, 
but    they    are  littered    with   opportunities  of 
becoming  fit  for  our  great  inheritance. 

—  F.  B.  Meyer. 


T    ET  Joy  come  into  your  heart ; 

She  is  waiting  just  outside 
With  the  tenderest  hands  and  sweetest  smile 
That  would  push  the  portals  wide. 

She  is  longing  to  enter  in 

And  be  of  your  life  a  part ; 
Not  a  transient  guest  in  your  troubled  breast, 

But  a  dweller  in  your  heart. 
114 


So  she  waits  at  the  closed  door, 

And  beside  her  sweet  Peace  stands  ; 

While  radiant  Hope  from  a  sunny  slope 
Is  reaching  beckoning  hands. 

As  they  sing  like  the  birds  at  dawn, 
Each  striving  to  drown  Care's  din. 

Oh,  listen,  and  hear  their  glad  songs  near 
And  hasten  to  let  them  in. 

—  Sllva  Nichols. 


"DEJOICE,  dear  heart!     Take    in    the    larger 

view, 
And  know  the  larger  life.   .  .   . 
If  thou  but  hold  the  Light,  thy  heart  remaineth 
Glad.     And  patience,  like  an  angel,  lifts 
Thee  on  her  wings,  and  carries  thee  above 
All  clouds  of  anguished  grieving. 

—  Helen  Van  Anderson. 


TpHERE  is  never  a  day  so  dreary 

But  God  can  make  it  bright. 
And  unto  the  soul  that  trusts  Him 

He  giveth  songs  in  the  night ; 
There  is  never  a  path  so  hidden 
115 


But  God  will  show  the  way, 
If  we  seek  the  Spirit's  guidance 
And  patiently  watch  and  pray. 

—  Lilla  M.  Alexander. 


A    TRUSTFUL,    happy   heart   makes  a  radiant 
face,  and  such  a  face  carries  a  blessing  wher- 
ever  it  goes.  _  j^^  q-^i^.  Companion. 

T   LOOKED    beyond   the   world    for   truth    and 

beauty. 
Sought,  found,  and  did  my  duty. 

—  Robert  Browning. 


OOW  love,  and  taste  its  fruitage  pure  ; 

Sow  peace,  and  reap  its  harvest  bright ; 
Sow  sunbeams  on  the  rock  and  moor. 
And  reap  a  harvest-home  of  light. 

—  Horatius  Bonar. 


'T^HE  secret  of  life  —  it  is  giving ; 

To  minister  and  to  serve ; 
Love's  law  binds  the  man  to  the  angel, 
And  ruin  befalls  if  we  swerve. 
ii6 


There  are  breadths  of  celestial  horizon 
Overhanging  the  commonest  way  ; 
The  clod  and  the  star  share  the  glory, 
And  to  breathe  is  an  ecstasy. 

—  Lucy  Larcom. 


T    IFE  is  the  mirror  of  king  and  slave; 

'Tis  just  what  we  are  and  do ; 
Then  give  to  the  world  the  best  you  have, 
And  the  best  will  come  back  to  you. 

—  Madeline  S.  Bridges. 


"X /TAY  every  life  that  touches  mine, 

Be  it  the  slightest  contact,  get  therefrom  some 
good, 

Some  little  grace,  one  kindly  thought. 

One  aspiration  yet  unfelt,  one  bit  of  courage  for 
the  darkening  sky. 

One  gleam  of  faith  to  brave  the  thickening  ills  of 
life, 

One  glimpse  of  brighter  skies  beyond  the  gather- 
ing mists  « 

To  make  this  life  worth  living,  and  heaven  a  surer 
heritage.  —  Jnon. 

117 


TT  is  said  that  if  a  piano  is  struck  in  the  same 
room  where  another  piano  stands  unopened 
and  untouched,  if  one  will  place  his  ear  quite  near 
to  the  case  of  the  closed  piano,  he  will  hear  a 
string  within  sound  the  same  note  as  the  one  given 
forth  by  the  first  one.  You  may  call  it  sympa- 
thetic, or  a  shadowy  hand  operating  within  —  it 
matters  little.  You  may  expatiate  upon  the  law 
of  vibrations,  and  yet  you  cannot  quite  understand 
the  beautiful  mystery.  Even  so  inexplicable  is  the 
sympathy  of  human  souls.  We  see  it,  we  feel  it, 
we  love,  and  there  we  must  leave  it,  leave  it  as  an 
inspiration  that  makes  the  whole  world  kin  —  leave 
it  as  humanity's  thank-offering  to  God. 

—  Matthias  S.  Kaufman. 


1V[0  sunrise,  mountain-top,  or  June  of  blossom 
is  so  beautiful  and  so  inspiring  by  its  beauty 
as  human  faces  at  their  best.  A  smile  is  the 
subtlest  form  of  beauty  in  all  the  visible  creation, 
and  heaven  breaks  on  the  earth  in  the  smiles  of 
friendly  faces.  —  tVm.  C.  Gannett. 

ii8 


Al /"EAR  a  face  in  harmony  with  the  springtime. 
Match  the  sunshine  with  your  smiles.  Help 
the  birds  in  filling  the  earth  with  music.  Feel  your- 
self a  part  of  this  busy,  happy,  awakening  world, 
and  show  it  by  your  looks  and  acts. 

—  Anon. 


'T'HE  unselfish  are  always  young.  The  body 
may  fade,  but  "  the  heart  never  grows  old." 
Nothing  brings  age  like  the  fear  of  growing  old, 
of  being  no  longer  recognized  as  of  use  in  the 
world.  Human  lives  yield  their  increase  in  the 
autumn  time.  Then  are  the  sheaves  garnered. 
If  the  springtime  and  summer  have  been  well 
spent,  the  fruitage  will  be  welcome  and  beautiful, 
and  time  will  have  touched  with  greater  loveliness 
than  that  of  youth  the  man  or  woman  who  has 
kept  a  young  heart  through  all  the  vicissitudes  and 
sorrows  of  years.  —  Mary  y.  Keyes. 


T^VERY  right  action  and  true  thought  sets  the 
seal  of  its  beauty  on  the  person  and  the  face. 

—  John  Rusk'tn. 
119 


T  KNOW  not  what  the  future  holds 
Of  pain,  and  care,  and  grief,  and  strife ; 

I  know  not  when  white  peace  unfolds 
Her  guarded  tents  unto  our  life. 

I  know  that  if  we  tread  the  way 

Truth  leads,  'twill  hold  more  gold  than  gray. 

I  know  full  oft  we  strive  to  cross 

The  heights,  whose  glints  o'ertop  the  sun. 
And  if  we  fail,  we  moan  of  loss, 

And  miss  the  things  we  might  have  won, 
When  they  did  hold  a  better  way, 
A  purer  gold,  for  all  their  gray. 

Ah,  yes  !  I  know,  howe'er  'tis  wrought. 
That  life  will  be  a  sweeter  song 

For  every  gift  of  loving  thought. 

And  though  the  way  be  short,  or  long, 

That  one  true  love  will  come  to  stay. 

And  prove  that  life's  more  gold  than  gray. 

—  Amy  Nicker  son. 


/^H,  what  is  there  to  frown  or  smile  at  ? 

What  is  left  for  us,  save,  in  growth 
Of  soul,  to  rise  up,  far  past  both. 
From  the  gift  looking  to  the  giver, 
120 


And  from  the  cistern  to  the  river, 

And  from  the  finite  to  infinity, 

And  from  man's  dust  to  God's  divinity  ? 

—  Robert  Browning. 


"X /TAKE  all  good  men  your  well-wishers,  and 
then,  in  the  years'  steady  sifting, 

Some  of  them  turn  into  friends.  Friends  are  the 
sunshine  of  life.  —  J°k^  Hay. 


A     RIFT  in  the  lute  sometimes  ! 
A  discord  in  the  song  ! 
Yet  our  faith  in  the  friends  that  are  true 
In  the  heart  may  linger  long. 

As  from  the  dark  shadows  of  evening 
Creeps  the  dawn  of  a  day  that  is  new, 

As  the  dews  which  refresh  and  restore  us, 
Is  the  faith  of  the  friend  that  is  true. 

—  Theresa  IVood. 

121 


'  I  "HE  rose  is  fairest  when  'tis  budding  new, 

And  hope   is  brightest  when   it  dawns   from 
fears. 
The  rose  is  sweetest  washed  with  morning  dew, 
And  love  is  loveliest  when  embalmed  with  tears. 

—  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

'T'HE  soul  is  an  instrument  of  a  thousand  strings; 
the  players  who  touch  the  strings  are  many  ; 
there  is  but  one  listener,  the  soul  itself. 

—  Anon. 

"W'OU  spoke  one  day  a  cheering  word, 

And  passed  to  other  duties ; 
It  warmed  a  heart,  new  promise  stirred. 

And  painted  a  life  with  beauties. 
And  so  for  the  word  and  its  silent  prayer 
You'll  reap  a  palm  sometime — somewhere. 

You  gave  on  the  way  a  pleasant  smile 

And  thought  no  more  about  it ; 
It  cheered  a  life  that  was  sad  the  while, 

That  might  have  been  wrecked  without  it ; 
And  so  for  the  smile  and  its  fruitage  fair 
You'll  reap  a  crown  sometime  —  somewhere. 

—  The  Classmate. 
122 


TTEART-CHEER  — 

Like  the  roses  sweet,  it  will  grow  and  grow 
As  fast  as  you  give  it  away. 

—  Antoinette  Smith. 


/'~*REAT  gift  of  heaven,  too  little  understood. 
The  happiness  that  comes  from  doing  good. 


JUST  to  be  good,  to  keep  life  pure  from  degrad- 
ing elements,  to  make  it  constantly  helpful  in 
little  ways  to  those  who  are  touched  by  it,  to  keep 
one's  spirit  always  sweet  and  avoid  all  manner  of 
petty  anger  and  irritability, —  that  is  an  ideal  as 
noble  as  it  is  difficult. 

—  Edward  Howard  Griggs. 


"PPIGRAMS  are  worth  little  for  guidance  to 
the  perplexed,  and  less  for  comfort  to  the 
wounded.  But  the  plain,  homely  sayings  which 
come  from  a  soul  that  has  learned  the  lesson  of 
patient  courage  in  the  school  of  real  experience, 
falls  upon  the  wound  like  drops  of  balsam,  and 
like  a  soothing  lotion  upon  the  eyes  smarting  and 
blinded  with  passion.  —  Henry  van  Dyke. 

123 


C  YMPATHY  is  the  golden  key  that  unlocks  the 


heart  of  others.  —  Samuel  Smiles. 


OELFISHNESS  cannot  forgive.      Love  cannot 
help  forgiving.      Love  defines  our  neighbor  as 
the  man  whom  we  can  help,  and  measures  our  duty 
to  him  by  what  we  would  wish  for  ourselves. 

—  William  DeWitt  Hyde. 


\17E   can   only   have   the   highest   happiness   by 
having  wide  thoughts  and  much  feeling  for 
the  rest  of  the  world  as  well  as  ourselves. 

—  George  Eliot. 


"OUT  who  shall  estimate  the  value  of  the  tender 
pity,  the  loving  interest,  the  kindly  deed,  the 
helpful  encouragement,  and  cheering  word  ?  Is  not 
each  of  us  daily  uplifted  and  inspired  by  just  such 
blessed  trifles  ?  —  L.  L.  T. 


"DE  kind  !  be  kind  !   each  soul  some  burden  hath, 

Some  shadows  lie  on  every  human  path ; 
Make  blest  to  age  its  precious  aftermath. 

124 


Be  kind  !   be  kind  !  who  knows  another's  need  ? 
The  lips  may  smile  when  oft  the  heart  doth  bleed. 
The  sad  thoughts  smiles  may  hide,  thou  canst  not 
read. 

Be  kind  !  be  kind  !  the  days  are  speeding  fast : 
The  time  for  kindly  deeds  will  soon  be  past. 
Speak  only  words  thou  wilt  should  be  thy  last. 

—  Luella  Clark. 

A^rHEN  darkness  gathers  round  my  path, 
And  all  the  song-birds  cease  to  sing, 
I  know  it  is  not  sent  in  wrath, — 

'Tis  but  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing. 
When  dancing  sunbeams  round  me  shine, 

And  joy  and  peacefulness  embrace, 
I  know  the  radiance  is  not  mine, — 

'Tis  but  the  brightness  of  Thy  face. 

T^AKE  courage  to  entrust  your  love 

To  Him  so  named,  who  guards  above 
Its  ends  and  shall  fulfil ! 
Breaking  the  narrow  prayers  that  may 
Befit  your  narrow  hearts,  away 
In  His  broad  loving  will. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 
125 


T^HE  year's  at  the  spring, 
The  day's  at  the  morn, 
The  morning's  at  seven. 
The  hillside's  dew-pearled ; 
The  lark's  on  the  wing, 
The  snail's  on  the  thorn, 
God's  in  his  heaven  — 
All's  right  with  the  world  ! 

—  Robert  Browning. 


'^X  7"E  are  not  happy  enough  Christians.  There 
is  in  us  too  much  discontent,  too  much 
complaining,  too  much  fretting  and  anxiety.  We 
become  discouraged  too  easily.  We  are  overcome 
too  readily  and  do  not  live  victoriously.  The 
great  truth  which  the  Incarnation  teaches  us  is 
that  God  is  with  us,  living  with  us,  dwelling  in  us. 
If  this  be  true,  whatever  the  experiences  of  our 
lives  may  be,  we  should  meet  them  with  joy.  A 
song  in  the  heart  makes  all  hard  things  easier,  all 
heavy  burdens  lighter,  all  bitter  sorrows  less  bitter. 
If  we  would  but  sing  at  our  work,  we  should  not 
grow  weary. 

"  For  the  heart  that  sings. 
Hours  fly  on  swift  wings 
126 


Of  mystical  rune  and  rhythm. 

And  carry  the  tunes 

Of  a  year  of  Junes, 
And  the  heart  of  the  toiler  with  them." 

—  y.  R.  Miller. 

(~\P  the  future  borrow, 

^-^^    Clothe  the  waste  with  dreams  of  grain, 

And  on  the  midnight  sky  of  rain 

Paint  the  Golden  Morrow.  —  Jnon. 


T^HE  woman  singing  at  her  spinning  wheel 

A  pleasant  chant,  ballad,  or  barcarolle ; 
She  thinking  of  her  song,  upon  the  whole. 
Far  more  than  of  the  flax  ;  and  yet  the  reel 
Is  full,  and  artfully  her  fingers  feel 
With  quick  adjustment,  provident  control, 
The  lines,  too  subtly  twisted  to  unroll, 
Out  to  a  perfect  thread.      I  hence  appeal 
To  the  dear  Christian  church  —  that  we  may  do 
Our  Father's  business  in  these  temples  mirk. 
Thus  swift  and  steadfast  ;  thus  intent  and  strong 
While,  thus,  apart  from  toil,  our  souls  pursue 
Some  high,  calm,  spheric  tune,  and  prove  our  work 
The  better  for  the  sweetness  of  our  song. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 
127 


/CHEERFULNESS  will  lighten    sickness,  pov- 
erty, and    affliction ;    convert   ignorance    into 
an   amiable  simplicity,  and  render  even  deformity 
itself  agreeable.  —Addison. 


OHE  was  black  and  she  was  poor.  She  had  to 
work  every  day  for  a  living,  but  as  she  worked 
she  sang,  and  this  was  the  refrain  of  her  song  : 
"  Thanksgiving  an'  the   voice  of  melody." 

"  What  makes  you  so  happy  ?  "  people  asked 
her,  as  they  heard  her  sing. 

"  'Pears  like  the  Lord  is  so  good  to  me  I  can't 
thank  him  enough,"  she  would  say,  and  then  she 
would  go  on  singing,  "  Thanksgiving  an'  the 
voice  of  melody,"  till  everybody  at  last  called 
her  "  Thanksgiving  Ann." 

It  seems  sometimes  as  if  we  had  lost  the  art  of 
being  happy,  as  children  in  crowded  city  streets  are 
said  to  forget  how  to  play. 

Every  day  is  Thanksgiving  Day  to  the  birds 
and  animals,  and  why  should  it  not  be  to  us  ? 
One  thing  will  help  us  to  be  happy,  and  that  is  the 
same  thing  that  mad&  the  old  colored  woman  sing 
at  her  work  —  it  is  to  remember  God's  goodness. 

If  we  feel  poor,  we  have  only  to  remember  that 

128 


our  Father  is  rich  ;  if  we  feel  lonely,  we  have  only 
to  remember  that  Jesus  has  promised  to  be  with  us 
to  the  end  of  the  world ;  if  we  feel  afraid,  we 
know  that  our  Father  says,  "  Fear  not,  for  I  am 
with  thee."  _  jj^^  Classmate. 

T    IVE  in  the  sunshine  ;   God  meant  it  for  you  ! 
Live  as  the  robins,  and  sing  the  day  through. 
—  Margaret  E.  Sangster. 

OUNSHINE'S  everywhere,  and  summer  too. 

—  Robert  Browning. 

TF  you'll  sing  a  song  as  you  plod  along, 

You'll  find  that  the  busy  rushing  throng 
Will  catch  the  strain  of  the  glad  refrain  ; 
That  the  sun  will  follow  the  blinding  rain  ; 
That  the  clouds  will  fly  from  the  blackened  sky ; 
That  the  stars  wiH  come  out  by  and  by ; 
And  you'll  make  new  friends,  till  hope  descends 
From  where  the  placid  rainbow  bends ; 
And  all  because  of  a  little  song  — 
If  you'll  sing  the  song  as  you  plod  along  ! 

—  Exchange. 
129 


/'"^HEER  up  !  There  are  sunny  days  in  store 
for  you,  even  if  you  are  in  the  midst  of 
clouds  now.  The  sun  is  always  in  its  place,  but 
the  clouds  appear  and  disappear.  Let  the  sun  of 
faith  shine  on  your  troubles,  and  see  how  quickly 
they  will  melt  away.  — Anon. 


'IPO  be  joyous  in  my  work,  moderate  in  my 
pleasures,  chary  in  my  confidences,  faithful 
in  my  friendships;  to  be  energetic  but  not  excit- 
able, enthusiastic  but  not  fanatical ;  loyal  to  the 
truth  as  I  see  it,  but  ever  open-minded  to  the 
newer  light ;  to  discourage  shams,  and  rejoice  in 
all  that  is  beautiful  and  true;  to  do  my  work  and 
live  my  life  so  that  neither  shall  require  defence 
or  apology,  to  honor  no  one  simply  because  rich 
or  famous,  and  despise  no  one  because  humble  or 
poor ;  to  be  gentle  and  considerate  toward  the 
weak,  respectful  yet  self-respecting  toward  the 
great,  courteous  to  all,  obsequious  to  none ;  to 
seek  wisdom  from  great  books  and  inspiration 
from  good  men ;  to  invigorate  my  mind  with 
noble  thoughts  as  I  do  my  body  with  sunshine 
and  fresh  air;  to  prize  all  sweet  human  friend- 
ships and  seek  to  make  at  least  one  home  happy ; 

130 


to  have  charity  for  the  erring,  sympathy  for  the 
sorrowing,  cheer  for  the  despondent ;  to  be  indif- 
ferent to  none,  helpful  to  some,  friendly  with  all ; 
to  leave  the  world  a  little  better  off  because  of  me ; 
and  to  leave  it,  when  I  must,  bravely  and  cheer- 
fully, with  faith  in  God  and  good-will  to  all  my 
fellow-men  ;  this  shall  be  my  endeavor  during  the 
coming  year.  __  j,  h.  Tewksbury. 


131 


VI 


133 


The  key  was  Love;  pure  gold;  acrust 
With  glittering  gems  of  faith  and  trust. 
It  fits  all  doors,  it  turns  all  locks, 
It  leads  the  way  thro'  walls  and  rocks, 
It  lifts  the  bolt,  unbars  the  gate. 
And  shows  us  where  life's  treasures  wait. 

—  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox. 


134 


THE   KEYNOTE 

A^rHOEVER  sings  his  song  aright, 

Must  catch  the  keynote  first, 
Then  will  the  perfect  strain  ascend. 
And  into  rapture  burst. 

And  in  the  scale  of  every  life 

This  note  runs  through  and  through  — 
No  tones  can  make  a  perfect  chord 

Unless  the  key  be  true. 

Each  soul  must  set  its  song  of  life, 

In  octave  low  or  high. 
And  he  whose  strain  is  truly  keyed 

Shall  hear  it  in  the  sky. 

—  M.  C.  Oliver. 


nPHAT  song  is  sweetest,  bravest,  best, 

Which  plucks  the  thistle-barb  of  care 
From  a  despondent  brother's  breast. 

And  plants  a  sprig  of  heart's  ease  there. 

—  Andrexv  Downing. 


'T'HERE    is   no  anodyne  for    heart   sorrow  like 

ministry  to  others.  „    „    ,^ 

^  —F.B.  Meyer. 


TT  OW  can  I  make  life  yield  its  fullest  and  best  ? 

In   a  single  word,  it  is  service^  —  not  self  but 

the  other  self.  „   ,  ,    ^ . ,  , ,    ^  . 

—  Ralph  Waldo  Trine. 


TF  thou  art  blest, 

Then  let  the  sunshine  of  thy  gladness  rest 
On  the  dark  edges  of  each  cloud  that  lies 
Back  in  thy  brother's  skies. 
If  thou  art  sad, 
Still  be  thou  in  thy  brother's  gladness  glad. 

—  Anna  E.  Hamilton. 

OCARS  on  the   face  become   marks    of    beauty 
when  the  heart  is  kind. 

—  Creswell  Maclaughlin. 


lUTEART   beauty  writes   itself  at   length  on  the 
external  life  in  deed,  disposition,  and  charac- 
ter. 

136 


It  is  the  inner  life  that  makes  our  world.  If 
our  hearts  are  sweet,  patient,  gentle,  loving,  we 
find  sweetness,  patience,  gentleness,  and  lovingness 
wherever  we  go.  But  if  our  hearts  are  bitter, 
jealous,  suspicious,  we  find  bitterness,  jealousy, 
and  suspicion  on  every  path.  If  we  go  out  among 
people  in  a  combative  spirit,  we  find  combativeness 
in  those  we  meet.  But  if  we  go  forth  in  a  chari- 
table frame  of  mind,  with  good-will  in  our  hearts 
toward  all,  we  find  brotherliness  and  cordiality  in 
every  man  we  come  up  to  in  our  walks  and  associ- 
ations. 

**  In  ourselves  the  sunshine  dwells  ; 
In  ourselves  the  music  swells ; 
Everywhere  the  heart  awake 
Finds  what  pleasure  it  can  make  ; 
Everywhere  the  light  and  shade 
By  the  Gazer's  eye  is  made." 

This  is  the  secret  of  that  fine  art  which  some 

people  possess  of  always  finding  good  and  beauty 

in    others.     They  have    goodness    and    beauty   in 

themselves.     There  are  such  people,  and  there  is 

no  reason  why  we  all  should  not  set  this  ideal  for 

our  lives.  ^   r>    T,^-,t 

—  J.R.  Miller. 

137 


A^^HEN  we  climb  to  heaven,  'tis  on  the  rounds 
Of  love  to  men. 

—  Alice  Gary, 


JOIN  the  great  company  of  those  who  make 
'^  the  barren  places  of  life  fruitful  with  kindness. 
Carry  a  vision  of  heaven  in  your  souls,  and  you 
shall  make  your  home,  your  college,  the  world,  cor- 
respond to  that  vision.  Your  success  and  happi- 
ness lie  in  you.  External  conditions  are  the 
accidents  of  life,  its  outer  trappings.  The  great, 
enduring  realities  are  love  of  service.  Joy  is  the 
holy  fire  that  keeps  our  purpose  warm  and  our  in- 
telligence aglow.  Resolve  to  keep  happy,  and  your 
joy  and    you  shall  form  an  invincible  host  against 

^'^'"^'>'-  -Helen  Keller. 


T  TNSELFISH    is    the   best    fashion    there    ever 
can  be;  it's  the  fashion  of  the  kingdom  of 

—  R.uth  Cady. 


/^~*REAT    hearts   are  those  whose  presence    is 
sunshine.     7'heir  coming   changes   our  cli- 
mate.    They  oil  the  bearings  of  life.     They  make 

138 


right     living     easy.      Blessed     are    the    happiness- 
makers  !      They     represent    the    best     forces    of 

civilization.  x?-       7;  n.    •  ;     tth- 

—  Newell  Dwight  Hillis. 


T^ACE  your  deficiencies  and  acknowledge  them, 
but  do  not  let  them  master  you.  Let  them 
teach  you  patience,  sweetness,  insight.  When  we 
do  the  best  we  can,  we  never  know  what  miracle 
is   wrought    in   our    own    life,  or    in    the   life  of 

—  Helen  Keller. 


Q  STRONGHEART!  not   in  vain    you  bore 

the  strife ! 
We  who  have  known  all,  are  braver  for  your  life. 

—  James  H.  IFest. 


T   EAD  life  of  love  :  that  others  who 

Behold  your  life  may  kindle  too 
With  love,  and  cast  their  lot  with  you. 

—  Christina  G.  Rossetti, 

139 


OHE  is  constantly  giving  up  her  life  for  Christ's 

sake,  and  as  often  finds  it  coming  back  to  her 

in  some  richer,  sweeter  form.  /?    n    n 

—  h.  r.  Koe. 

"V^OUNG  men  and  women,  the  sermon  of  the 
hour  for  you  is  in  the  words,  "  She  hath 
done  what  she  could."  Let  it  preach  to  you  of 
the  work  you  have  to  do  in  these  high  and  rare 
years  of  youth  that  are  so  rapidly  gliding  by.  Do 
what  you  can  toward  bringing  out  the  noblest 
possibilities  of  your  nature.  Do  what  you  can  to 
think  high  thoughts,  to  love  true  things,  and  to  do 
noble  deeds.  Temptations  beset  you  like  those 
that  have  filled  hearts  as  light  as  yours  with  inex- 
pressible sorrow.  Are  you  doing  what  you  can  to 
make  yourself  strong  to  resist  them  ?  Before  you 
hang  the  gilded  trinkets  of  fashion,  the  embroidered 
banners  of  selfish  lives.  Do  what  you  can  to  live 
for  higher  aims  than  these.  Your  lives  are  grow- 
ing riper,  your  heads  are  growing  wiser.  Are  you 
doing  what  you  can  to  balance  this  with  growth  of 
heart,  making  the  aff^ections  as  much  richer  and 
warmer;  the  conscience,  God's  best  gift  to  man, 
brighter  and  more  commanding  ?  Are  you  doing 
what   you  can  to   follow  your  truest  and  do  your 

best  ? 

—  Rev.  y.  LI.  "Jones. 

140 


^HRIST'S  time  was  largely  taken  up  in  making 
other  people  happy. 

—  Henry  Drummond. 


PASS   IT   ON 

"LJAVE  you  had  a  kindness  shown, 

Pass  it  on, 
'Twas  not  given  for  thee  alone, 

Pass  it  on. 
Let  it  travel  down  the  years. 
Let  it  wipe  another's  tears, 
Till  in  heaven  the  deed  appears, 
Pass  it  on. 

Hast  thou  found  some  precious  treasure, 

Pass  it  on. 
Hast  thou  some  peculiar  pleasure, 

Pass  it  on. 
For  the  heart  grows  rich  in  giving, 
Loving  is  the  truest  living, 
Letting  go  is  twice  possessing, 
Would'st  thou  double  every  blessing, 

Pass  it  on. 

141 


Have  you  found  the  heavenly  light  ? 

Pass  it  on. 
Souls  are  groping  in  the  night, 

Daylight  gone. 

Hold  thy  lighted  lamp  on  high, 

Be  a  star  in  some  one's  sky, 

He  may  live  who  else  would  die, 

Pass  it  on.  tt         t>    . 

—  Henry  Burton, 

A  LOVABLE  Christian  is  one  who  hits  the 
golden  mean  between  easy,  good-natured  lax- 
ity on  the  one  hand,  and  stern  or  uncharitable 
moroseness  on  the  other.  He  is  sound  and  yet 
sweet !  He  is  all  the  sweeter  for  living  much  in 
the  sunshine  of  Christ's  countenance.  He  never 
incurs  suspicion  or  contempt  by  compromising 
with  sinful  prejudices,  nor  does  he  repel  people  by 
doing  a  righteous  act  in  a  churlish  or  bigoted  fash- 
ion. The  blessed  Jesus  is  our  model  here  as  in 
everything  else.  _  ^^^  y^^j^  Observer. 


TTAVE  a  heart  that  never  hardens,  and  a  temper 
that  never  tires,  and  a  touch  that  never  hurts. 

—  Dickens. 
142 


A^ 7"E  view  the  world  with  our  own  eyes,  each  of 
us,  and  we  make  from  within  us  the  world 
which  we  see.  _  fhackeray. 

*  I  "HE    very    essence    of  truth    is   plainness   and 
brightness,  the  darkness  and  crookedness  are 

^"'■o^^"-  -Milton. 

T'LL  drop  my  burden  at  His  feet, 
And  bear  a  song  away. 

T  WOULD  recommend  weary  folks  to  take  sing- 
ing-lessons.    Learn  to  sing ! 

God  has  promised  daily  strength  for  daily  need, 
but  never  that  the  strength  furnished  for  any  given 
moment  should  suffice  for  troubles  carried  over 
from  the  past  or  borrowed  from  the  future.  The 
divine  Teacher  said  truly  :  "  The  morrow  shall 
take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself;  sufficient 
unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

And,  after  all,  the  troubles  you  anticipate  may 
never  really  befall.  'Tis  a  long  lane  without  a 
turning.  The  dreariest  day  has  some  glints  of 
light.  How  do  you  know  that  some  spell  of  good 
fortune  may  not  be  about  to  befall  you  ?      In  any 

143 


case,  worrying  will  not  mend  the  matter.  It  can 
alter  neither  the  future  nor  the  past,  though  it  will 
materially  affect  your  power  for  bearing  it.  It 
will  not  rob  to-morrow  of  its  difficulties,  but  it 
will  rob  your  brain  of  its  clear-sightedness  and  your 
heart  of  its  courage. 

Turn  from  it  to  God  with  faith  and  prayer ; 
and  look  out  for  the  one  or  two  patches  of  blue 
which  are  in  every  sky.  And  if  you  cannot  dis- 
cover any  where  you  are,  dare  to  anticipate  the 
time  when  God  will  wipe  away  all  tears,  and  give 
you  a  kiss  like  that  which  a  mother  gives  to  a  tired, 
sobbing  child,  who  is  too  weary  to  get  off  to  sleep. 

—  F.  B.  Meyer. 

TOY  lies  in  mere  constant  living  in  Christ's  pres- 
•^  ence,  with  all  that  this  implies  of  peace,  of 
shelter,  and  of  love.  _  j^^^^y  Drummond. 


/'^OD  gives  each  man  one  life,  like  a  lamp,  then 

gives 
That  lamp  due  measure  of  oil ;  lamp  lighted,  hold 

high,  wave  wide 
Its  comfort  for  others  to  share. 

—  Robert  Browning. 
144 


nPHE  golden  rule  of  Christ  will  bring  the  golden 

age  to  man. 

—  Frances  Willard. 


IV /TINE  be  the  lot  to  comfort  and  delight, 

And  if  some  awful  chasms  I  needs  must  leap, 
Let  me  not  murmur  at  my  lot,  but  sweep 
On  bravely  to  the  end  without  one  fear, 
Knowing  that  He  who  planned  my  ways  stands 
near.  —Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox. 


IVrOT  even  Hope  can  always  soar  and  sing ; 

Sometimes  she  needs  must  rest  a  willing  wing. 
And  wait  in  midst  of  her  glad  carolling. 

Faint  not,  dear  heart,  though  she  rest  over  night — 
Her  wings  are  swifter  than  the  wings  of  light ; 
They're  gaining  strength  for  more  enduring  flight. 

Fret  not  because  her  voice  is  sometimes  still ; 
It  may  be  catching  some  new  lilt  or  thrill ; 
She'll  sing  again,  all  of  her  own  sweet  will. 

Perhaps  when  worn  with  pain,  in  darkened  room. 
Denied  the  light,  the  beauty,  and  the  bloom, 
You'll  see  a  little  rift  within  the  gloom; 

145 


Then  hear  a  stir,  as  of  unfolding  wings  ; 

And  low,  sweet  notes,  as  one  who  tries  the  strings 

In  tender  prelude  just  before  he  sings. 

And  wakened  Hope,  grown  vigorous  and  strong. 
Will  then  surprise  the  silence  with  a  song  — 
Keep  a  brave  heart,  Hope  never  slumbers  long. 

—  Anna  J.  Granniss. 


T~^HE  good  we  hoped  to  gain  has  failed  us  —  well. 

We  do  not  see  the  ending  —  and  the  boon 
May  wait  us  down  the  ages  —  who  can  tell  ? 
And  bless  us  amply  soon. 

In  God's  eternal  plan,  a  month,  a  year, 
Is  but  an  hour  of  some  slow  April  day, 

Holding  the  germs  of  what  we  hope  or  fear, 
To  blossom  far  away. 

And  rayless  days  must  come,  and  nights  of  mist, 
And,  after  brooding  sunshine,  dreary  showers  j 

Chill  dews  delay  the  buds  the  south  wind  kissed. 
And,  late,  bloom  fairer  flowers. 

146 


We  pray  for  growth  and  strength ;  griefs  dreaded 
showers 

May  be  in  God's  wise  purpose  ripening  rain  ; 
He  only  knows  how  all  our  highest  powers 

Are  perfected  in  pain. 

To  trusting  souls  must  truest  good  increase  ; 

Loss  here  shall  be  uncounted  treasures  there; 

So  we  attain  to  perfectness  of  peace, 

What  matter  how  or  where  ? 

—  Luella  Clark. 

T^HE  sunny  side  of  the  hill  is  the  time  to  lift  a 
bit  at  the  wheel  of  some  traveller  who  has 
missed  it  on  the  way  up,  and  has  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  a  sharp  pitch,  tired  out  and  sorrowing  at 
his  lot.  You  can  help  him  a  little  and  still  reach 
the  summit  ere  the  sun  begins  to  slant  toward  the 
west.  When  the  gray  hairs  come,  it  will  be  pleas- 
ant to  think  back  to  the  kindly  deeds  you  have 
done  for — whom  ?  For  the  friend  in  need  ?  Yes, 
and  for  the  Master  too. 

Again,  the  sunny  side  of  life  is  the  time  to  learn 
the  secret  of  the  shining  key  to  the  place  of  the 
shut  door.  Do  not  let  it  ever  get  rusty.  Be  the 
only  locksmith    that    knows    the    combination    to 

147 


the  prayer  closet  of  your  heart,  A  shining  key 
to  the  place  of  prayer  is  the  surest  badge  of  the 
true  Christian. 

Once  more,  you  will  be  happy  by  and  by  if  you 
will  take  the  time  to  learn  to  know  a  privilege 
when  you  see  it.  Far  too  often  when  we  meet 
privilege  on  the  way  of  life,  we  do  not  recognize 
it.  We  say  :  "  Excuse  me.  I  believe  you  are  a 
duty — a  hard,  irksome  duty.  Stand  out  of  the 
way.  I  am  looking  for  privilege,  not  duty."  And 
all  the  time  we  are  face  to  face  with  privilege  and 
did  not  know  it.  Surely,  the  morning  of  life  is 
the  very  best  time  to  journey  the  way  of  the  cross. 
Then  all  the  rest  of  the  way  will  be  made  brighter 
by  the  light  that  streams  from  it. 

—  Kind  Words. 

nPHERE  are  nettles  everywhere, 

But  the  smooth  green  grasses  are  more  com- 
mon still; 
The  blue  in  heaven  is  larger  than  the  cloud. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

TF  we  cannot  strew  life's  path  with  flowers,  we 
can,  at  least,  strew  it  with  smiles. 

—  Charles   Dickens. 
148 


A  FRIEND  of  mine  told  me  of  a  visit  he  had 
paid  to  a  poor  woman,  overwhelmed  with 
trouble  in  her  httle  room ;  but  she  always  seemed 
cheerful.  She  knew  the  Rock.  "  Why,"  said 
he,  "  Mary,  you  must  have  very  dark  days ;  they 
must  overcome  you  with  clouds  sometimes." 
"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  but  then  I  often  find  there's 
comfort  in  a  cloud."  "  Comfort  in  a  cloud, 
Mary  ?  "  "  Yes,"  she  said  ;  "  when  I  am  very 
low  and  dark,  I  go  to  the  window,  and  if  I  see  a 
heavy  cloud,  I  think  of  those  precious  words,  '  a 
cloud  received  Him  out  of  their  sight ' ;  and  I  look 
up  and  see  the  cloud,  sure  enough,  and  then  I 
think  —  well,  that  may  be  the  cloud  that  hides 
Him,  and  .so  you  see  there  is  comfort  in  a  cloud." 
— --  Treasury  of  Religious  Thought. 

/^UT  of  the  shadows  of  night 
The  world  rolls  into  light ; 
It  is  daybreak  everywhere  ! 

—  Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

"CLEAREST  sometimes  that  thy  Father 

Hath  forgot  ? 
Tho'  the  clouds  around  thee  gather 

Doubt  Him  not ! 
149 


Always  hath  the  daylight  broken, 

Always  hath  He  comfort  spoken ; 

Better  hath  He  been  for  years 

Than  thy  fears. 

—  K.  R.  Kavenbach. 


/^   FAIR  To-morrow,  what  our  souls  have  missed 
Art  thou  not  keeping  for  us,  somewhere  still  ? 
The  buds  of  promise  that  have  never  blown  — 
The  tender  lips  that  we  have  never  kissed  — 
The  song  whose  high,  sweet  strain  eludes  our  skill. 
The  one  pearl  that  life  hath  never  known. 

—  yulia  C.  R.  Dorr. 


JUST   SMILE   AND    THEN   FORGET 

/^H,  do  not  be  discouraged,  little  heart. 

This  world  is  not  a  wilderness  of  woe ; 
And  if  sometimes  its  brambles  catch  and  tear. 
Don't  let  the  little  scratches  vex  you  so. 

For  all  the  little  worries  that  befall. 
The  small  vexations  that  so  grieve  and  fret. 
To-morrow  they  will  vanish  into  air; 
Then  smile,  dear  heart,  just  smile,  and  then  forget. 

150 


And  if  to-day  the  skies  are  overcast, 
Somewhere,  we  know,  the  sun  is  shining  still ; 
Its  silver  radiance  brims  the  lowering  clouds, 
And  we  may  catch  its  glory  if  we  will. 

And  when  our  feet  are  weary,  and  the  road 
More  toilsome  seems  with  every  passing  day, 
To  share  our  every  burden,  little  heart. 
The  Helper  walks  beside  us  all  the  way. 

—  Elizabeth  Clarke  Hardy. 


TO    TRUST 

TT'S  easy  to  trust  when  the  skies  are  blue. 

When  everything  goes  as  you  wish  it  to ; 
It's  easy  to  trust  when  no  hope's  denied. 
When  every  desire  is  as  quick  supplied  ; 
When  your  joy  each  day  grows  more  and  more, 
Till  the  heart  somehow  is  a-spilling  o'er ! 
You  just  can't  help  it ;    it  seems  you  must. 
Wherever  you  are,  in  the  Father  trust ! 

But  it's  hard  to  trust  when  the  skies  are  gray. 
When  nothing  seemingly  goes  your  way  ; 
It's  hard  to  feel  that  it's  "  for  the  best," 
When  suffering  comes  to  the  dear  home  nest ; 

151 


When  one  by  one  your  joys  depart, 
Leaving  a  desolate,  widowed  heart. 
But  you  just  can't  help  it;   it's  now  you  must 
In  the  Father's  love  believe  and  trust ! 

—  Adelhert  F.  Caldwell. 


C\^  the  bare  side  of  yonder  hill 

See  the  dark  shadow  resting  still ; 
Its  cause,  the  small  cloud  bright  as  light. 
In  the  clear  blue  above  the  height. 

'Tis  thus  with  sorrow,  cheerless  here, 

A  shadow  on  some  spot  most  dear; 

Yet  thrown  from  His  brightness  high  above. 

Reflected  from  God's  smile  of  love  ! 

—  George  Bancroft  Griffith. 

TT  is  a  comely  fashion  to  be  glad  — 
Joy  is  the  grace  we  say  to  God. 

—  'Jean  Inge  low. 


■\  ^  fHAT  matters  it  though  life  uncertain  be 

To  all  ?     What  though  its  goal 
Be  never  reached  ?     What  though  it  fall  and  flee. 
Have  we  not  each  a  soul  ? 

152 


Be  like  the  bird  that  on  a  bough  too  frail 

To  bear  him  gayly  swings  ; 
He  carols  though  the  slender  branches  fail  — 

He  knows  that  he  has  wings. 

—  Victor  Hugo. 


"  T^HY  will  be  done  "  is  the  sum  of  all  true 
worship  and  right  prayer.  The  rest  is  aside 
from  the  divine  purpose,  and  could  it  be  realized 
would  make  the  world  a  chaos  or  a  desert.  We 
would  not  love  the  flowers  if  it  were  always  spring, 
and  our  pleasures  would  pall,  did  not  pain  and  loss 
come  to  teach  us  their  worth. 

—  y.  S.  Spaulding. 


153 


VII 


155 


The  dear  Lord  comfort  you. 

—  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

If  I  could  speak  as  heart  to  heart  in  sorrow, 
The  sympathy  and  love  I  cannot  pen, 

If  I  should  wish  God's  comfort  on  the  morrow 

'Twould  not  relieve  your  heart,  but  then 

I'm  sure  you'd  know. 

—  W.  K.  G. 


156 


LOOK   UP 

A  LTHOUGHthelightisout,darknessaroundus; 
The  sun  gone  down,  the  night  succeeding  day  ; 
Although  the  summer  fades  and  sombre  sadness 
Fills  us  with  sorrow  and  dismay, 
We  know  God  lives. 
And  when  He  comes  to  us  and,  gently  bending, 

Kisses  to  sleep,  as  father  would  his  son. 
The  lad  we  love  beyond  our  own  life's  ending. 
How  can  our  aching  hearts  be  won 
To  think  it  well  ? 

'Tis  hard  to  know,  and  seems  beyond  the  mending; 

But  then  the  comfort  of  the  hope  beyond 
Can  make  the  pathway  worthy  the  ascending. 

Till  we  can  listen  and  respond, 
And  reach  his  hand. 
Dear  heart,  look  up,  the  evening  stars  are  shining, 

God  is  the  same  at  night  as  in  the  day  ; 
And  by  and  by  we'll  know  the  silver  lining. 

And  walk  in  His  eternal  way. 

We  know  God  lives.     _  J^.^^  j^  ^^^^ 

157 


A  RT  sad,  My  child  ?     Was  it  thy  fond  belief 
The  sun  of  joy  for  thee  would  never  set  ? 
Remember,  I  have  trod  the  way  of  grief 

And  consecrated  sorrow.      Patience  yet ; 
Patience,  if  need  be,  through  heart-breaking  years 

The  burden  of  thine  anguish  to  sustain, 
And  thou  shalt  win  the  blessing  of  thy  tears. 

And  the  high  gladness  born  of  vanquished  pain ; 
It  is  thy  comfort  that  thy  woe  shall  be 
Some  kin  to  that  I  bore  on  Calvary. 

—  L.  M.  Montgomery. 

A  H,  how  His  patience  shames  our  discontent ! 

How  foolish  all  our  fretfulness  appears  ! 

Did  He  not  love  us  all  these  many  years, 

And  yet  His  days  in  quiet  toil  were  spent. 

He  knew  the  cause  whereunto  He  was  sent ; 

His  world  stood  waiting,  there  were  anguished  tears 

For  Him  to  wipe ;  the  dead  upon  their  biers 

To  be  awakened,  and  men  called  to  repent. 

And  little  children  to  be  blessed,  the  hill 

Of  Calvary  to  climb ;  yet,  day  by  day 

Unrecognized,  He  calmly  worked  until 

The  time  was  come.      O  blessed  Lord  !  we  pray 

That  by  Thy  life  we  may  take  patience  still. 

And  in  Thy  path  may  follow  patiently. 

—  Anon. 
158 


T^HE  gates  of  life  swing  either  way 

On  noiseless  hinges  night  and  day. 
One  enters  through  the  open  door, 
One  leaves  us  to  return  no  more. 
And  which  is  happier,  which  more  blest, — 
God  knoweth  best. 

We  greet  with  smiles  the  one  who  comes 
Like  sunshine  to  our  hearts  and  homes. 
And  reach  out  longing  hands  with  tears 
To  him  who  in  his  ripened  years 
Goes  gladly  to  his  heavenly  rest ; 
God  knoweth  best. 

He  guards  the  gates ;  we  need  not  dread 
The  path  these  little  feet  must  tread. 
Nor  fear  for  him  who  from  our  sight. 
Passed  through  them  to  the  realms  of  light. 
Both  in  His  loving  care  we  rest : 
God  knoweth  best. 

—  Mary  Wheaton  Lyon. 

TDEYOND  life's  toils  and  cares. 

Its  hopes  and  joys,  its  weariness  and  sorrow. 
Its  sleepless  nights,  its  days  of  smiles  and  tears. 
Will  be  a  long,  sweet  life,  unmarked  by  years  — 
One  bright,  unending  morrow. 

159 


/~\NE  of  these  days  they  will  all  be  over 

Sorrow  and  laughter,  loss  and  gain, 
Meetings  and  partings  of  friend  and  lover, 
Joy  that  was  often  tinged  with  pain. 

*>t«  k^  «i«  *i«  %1a  (i* 

^»  »r«  ^*  ^j»  ^^  *j* 

One  of  these  days  shall  the  heartache  leave  us, 
One  of  these  days  will  the  burden  drop ; 

Never  again  shall  a  hope  deceive  us, 
Never  again  shall  our  progress  stop. 

*^|#  *t*  t^  vj>  kl*  «1« 

*J»  ^^  ^^  ^^  #J%  ^K 

One  of  these  days  we  shall  know  the  reason. 
Haply,  of  much  that  perplexes  now  ; 

One  of  these  days  in  the  Lord's  good  season, 
Light  of  His  peace  shall  adorn  the  brow. 

Evermore  blest  out  of  tribulation. 

Lifted  to  dwell  in  His  sun-bright  smile, 

Happy  to  share  in  the  great  salvation. 
Can  we  not  patiently  tarry  awhile  ? 

—  Margaret  Sangster. 

GOD  KNOWS  BEST 

/^NE  sad  day,  when  the  sun's  gold  crown. 

Jewelled  the  desolate,  dreamy  west, 
I  came  with  a  burden  and  laid  it  down 
Under  the  lilies  and  leaves  to  rest ; 
i6o 


And,  weeping,  I  left  it  and  went  my  way, 

With    the  twilight   whispering :    "  God   knows 
best !  " 

One  sweet  day  —  it  was  long  ago, 

And  thorny  the  paths  my  feet  have  pressed 
Since,  with  tears  and  kisses,  I  laid  it  low  — 

Soul  of  my  soul  and  life  of  my  breast ! 
But  kneeling  now  in  the  dark  to  pray. 

There  comes  with  a  song  from  the  sunless  west 
The  same  sweet  voice  that  I  heard  that  day  — 

The  twilight  whispering  :    "  God  knows  best !  " 

—  Frank  L.  Stanton. 


/^AN  we  not  clasp  the  Father's  hand  and  be  at 

rest 
Because  He  knoweth  best  ? 

Can  we  not  trust,  until  He  opens  wide  the  gate, 
His  love  is  great  ? 
For  He  who  holds  the  key 
To  life's  dark  mystery 
Some  day  will  lift  from  eyes  the  seal, 
And  to  the  trusting  soul  reveal 
The  way  o'er  which  He  led  His  child 
To  pastures  green,  through  deserts  wild. 

—  May  Louise  Tibbets. 
i6i 


n^HERE    are    compensations:    and    no    outward 
changes   of   condition   in    life   can    keep   the 
nightingale  of  its  eternal  meaning  from  singing  in 
all  sorts  of  different  men's  hearts. 

—  William  "James. 

T    EARN  to  wait  Hope's  slow  fruition, 

Faint  not,  though  the  way  seem  long ; 
There  is  joy  in  each  condition  — 

Hearts,  through  suffering,  may  grow  strong. 

Constant  sunshine,  howe'er  welcome, 
Ne'er  would  ripen  fruit  or  flower ; 

Giant  oaks  owe  half  their  greatness 
To  the  scathing  tempest's  power. 

—  Anon. 

A  DVERSITY  is  like  the  period  of  the  former 
and   of  the   latter   rain,  —  cold,   comfortless, 
unfriendly  to   man  and  to   animal ;  yet    from  that 
season  have  their  birth  the  flower  and  the  fruit. 

—  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

A  ND  not  by  eastern  windows  only, 

When  daylight  comes,  comes  in  the  light. 
In  front,  the  sun  climbs  slow,  how  slowly. 
But  westward,  look,  the  land  is  bright. 

—  Arthur  Hugh  Clough. 
162 


T^HROUGH  light  and  dark,  through  rain  and 
shine,  the  carrier-pigeon  holds  its  course 
straight  homeward.  So  life's  true  aim  may  be  won 
whatever  of  failure  checks  our  business,  or  what- 
ever of  sorrow  mars  our  happiness.  Even  the  last 
enemy,  death,  may  not  stay  our  course. 

—  R.  F.  "Johonnot. 

T^'ELL  me  what  is  sorrow  ?     It  is  a  gloomy  cage. 

And  what  is  joy  ?     It  is  a  little  bird, 
Whose  song  therein  is  heard.  Stoddard, 

TS  it  rainy,  little  flower  ? 

Be  glad  of  rain. 
Too  much  sun  would  wither  thee ; 

'Twill  shine  again. 
The  clouds  are  very  black,  'tis  true, 
But  just  behind  it  shines  the  blue. 

—  Mary  Frances  Butts. 

T  DO  not  see 

Why  God  should  e'en  permit  some  things  to  be. 
When  He  is  love  ; 
But  I  can  see, 
Though  often  dimly  through  the  mystery, 
His  hand  above. 

—  F.  G.  Browning. 
163 


T  THINK  if  thou  couldst  see, 
With  thy  dim  mortal  sight, 
How  meanings  dark  to  thee 
Are  shadows  hiding  light, 
Truth's  efforts  crossed  and  vexed, 
Life's  purpose  all  perplexed, — 
If  thou  couldst  see  them  right, 
I  think  that  they  would  seem  all  clear,  and  wise, 
and  bright. 

And  yet  thou  canst  not  know. 

And  yet  thou  canst  not  see ; 
Wisdom  and  sight  are  slow 

In  poor  humanity. 
If  thou  couldst  trusty  poor  soul, 
Thou  wouldst  find  peace  and  rest. 
Wisdom  and  sight  are  well,  but  trust  is  best. 

—  Adelaide  A.  Procter. 


HTHE  heart  that  suffers,  most  may  sing; 

All  beauty  seems  of  sorrow  born  : 
The  gems  of  thought  most  highly  prized 
Are  tears  of  sorrow  crystallized. 

164 


nPHE  gloom  of  night  is  dense  and  deep; 
Rough  is  the  path  as  we  grope  along ; 
Courage,  Heart,  as  the  shadows  creep  — 

This  is  the  matin-song : 
After  the  night  is  noon  ; 

After  the  journey,  rest ; 
The  world  will  waken  in  gladness  soon, 

And  the  heart  that  sings  is  blest ! 

The  glare  of  the  sun  is  hard  and  hot; 

The  road  is  dusty,  the  way  is  long ; 
Shift  your  burden,  and  heed  it  not, — 

This  is  the  even  song  : 
After  the  noon  is  night; 

After  the  journey,  rest ; 
For  the  wind  will  wake  and  the  stars  be  bright. 

And  the  heart  that  sings  is  blest ! 

—  Grace  Duffield  Goodwin. 

TN    God  shall  be  my   hope,  my  stay,  my  guide, 

and  lantern  to  my  feet.  c;    ;    ^ 

■'  —  bbakespeare. 

A  FTER  the  fever  of  life;  after  weariness,  comes 
rest,  peace,  joy ;  our  eternal  portion,  if  we  be 
worthy.  —  Cardinal  Newman. 

165 


...    T7^ES  that  have  wept 

Must  look  a  little  way,  —  not  far. 
God  broke  the  years  to  hours  and  days, 
That  hour  by  hour 
And  day  by  day 
Just  going  on  a  little  way, 
We  might  be  able  all  along 
To  keep  quite  strong. 
Should  all  the  weight  of  life 
Be  laid  across  our  shoulders,  and  the  future  rife 
With  woe  and  struggle,  meet  us  face  to  face 
At  just  one  place. 
We  could  not  go  : 
God  lays  a  little  on  us  every  day. 
And  never,  I  believe  on  all  the  way 
Will  burdens  bear  so  deep. 
Or  pathways  lie  so  steep. 
But  we  can  go,  if  by  God's  power 
We  only  bear  the  burdens  of  the  hour. 

—  George  Klingle. 

"DEYOND  the  smiling  and  the  weeping 

I  shall  be  soon  ! 
Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping. 
Beyond  the  sowing  and  the  reaping, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
i66 


Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
Sweet  hope  ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 
Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading, 
Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading, 

I  shall  be  soon. 

Beyond  the  rising  and  the  setting, 

I  shall  be  soon  ! 
Beyond  the  calming  and  the  fretting, 
Beyond  remembering  and  forgetting, 

I  shall  be  soon  ! 

Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting 

I  shall  be  soon  ! 
Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting. 
Beyond  this  pulse's  fever  beating 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 

—  Horatius  Bonar, 

TVTEVER  a  cloud  o'erhung  the  day 

And  flung  its  shadows  down. 
But  on  its  heaven-side  gleamed  some  ray. 
Forming  a  sunshine  crown. 
167 


It  is  dark  only  on  the  downward  side : 
Though  rage  the  tempest  loud, 

And  scatter  its  tenons  far  and  wide 
There's  light  upon  the  cloud. 

—  M.  y.  Savage. 

COME  day,  He  will  tell  you  why  He  has  tried 
you,  and  let  you  look  back  upon  your  life 
story  and  see  the  golden  thread  of  His  fatherly  love 
and  care  shining  over  and  around  it  all,  not  as  it 
is  now,  winding  in  and  out,  and  only  seen  by 
glimpses.  — Frances  Ridley  HavergaL 


"^'X  rHAT  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now ;  but  thou 
shalt  know  hereafter.  —  ^John  ij  :  7. 


T^VERY  day  is  a  fresh  beginning  : 

Listen,  my  soul,  to  the  glad  refrain, 

And,  spite  of  old  sorrow  and  older  sinning. 
And  puzzles  forecasted  and  possible  pain. 
Take  heart  with  the  day,  and  begin  again. 

Yesterday  now  is  a  part  of  forever. 

Bound  up  in  a  sheaf,  which  God  holds  tight, 

168 


With  glad  days,  and  sad  days,  and  bad  days  which 
never 
Shall  visit  us   more  Vi^ith  their  bloom  and  their 
blight.  —  Susan  Coolidge. 


"DE  still,  sad  heart !  and  cease  repining; 

Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining; 
Thy  fate  is  the  common  fate  of  all, 
Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall, 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary. 

—  Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


f^OME  out  of  the  shadovi^  of  regret, 
Live  in  the  sunshine  of  content. 


"\TOT  half  the  storms  that  threatened  me, 

E'er  broke  upon  my  head ; 
Not  half  the  pains  I've  waited  for, 

E'er  racked  me  on  my  bed  ; 
Not  half  the  clouds  that  drifted  by. 

Have  overshadowed  me  ; 
Not  half  the  dangers  ever  came 
I  fancied  I  could  see. 
169 


Somehow  thro'  every  leaden  sky 

Some  rift  hath  shown  the  light ; 
Somehow  each  valley  with  its  gloom 

Hath  borne  some  flower  bright ; 
And  thus  thro'  life  some  loving  hand  — 

Some  Friend  I  could  not  see  — 
Hath  sent  amidst  the  darkest  hour 

Some  blessing  unto  me. 

—  B.  W.  Burleigh. 


"X^ /"E    pray    for    growth    and    strength ;     griefs 

dreaded  showers 
May  be  in  God's  wide  purpose  ripening  rain  j 
He  only  knows  how  all  our  highest  powers 
Are  perfected  in  pain.  Anon. 


'T'HE  year  is  not  all  composed  of  summer  days  ; 
it  has  its  long  expanses  of  winter  cold  and 
gloom.  —  George  Macdonald, 


/^OUNT  not  loss  the  hopes  that  fall 

Like  leaves  in  autumn,  one  by  one, 
Nor  dream  the  light  is  vanished  all 
As  the  dark,  dreary  night  wears  on. 
170 


You  shall  know  at  last  that  loss  was  gain, 
That  through  your  weary,  toilsome  way, 

As  you  saw  the  stars  in  your  life-star  wave, 
The  night  was  leading  to  heavenly  day. 

—  Anon. 

OOONER  than  we  sometimes  think,  the  morn- 
ing comes  ; 

Though  far  the  stars  and  long  the  weary  night, 

Yet  at  the  entrance  of  the  east  the  darkness  paler 
grows  — 

A  waiting  hush  is  over  all,  the  heart  of  Heaven 
knows 

The  chariot  of  the  Conqueror,  his  triumph  train 
of  light, 

A  soft  wind  stirs,  a  bird  awakes. 

Over  the  sea  the  first  light  breaks  — 

The  morning  comes  \  —  Anon. 

T^OES  the  mist  bewilder  thee  ? 
Climbing  make  thee  weary  ? 
Yet  go  forward  braced  by  hope, 
Confident  and  cheery. 
To  thy  many  guides  is  given 
Power  to  lead  thee  up  to  heaven. 

—  Marianne  Farningham. 
171 


"Xl  fHAT   thankful    hearts   have    gleaned   where 

now  I  glean, 
What  patient  feet  have  passed  this  way  before. 

—  Edward  C.  Lefroy. 


"pvEAR    restless    heart,   be  still;    don't  fret  and 

worry  so ; 
God  hath  a  thousand  ways  His  love  and   help  to 

show. 
Just  trust,  and  trust,  and  trust,  until  His  will  you 

know. 

Dear   restless  heart,  be  still ;   for  peace  is  God's 

own  smile  ; 
His  love  can  every  wrong  and  sorrow  reconcile ; 
Just  love,  and   love,  and  love,  and  calmly  wait  a 

while. 

Dear  restless   heart,   be   brave ;    don't   moan   and 

sorrow  so ; 
He  hath  a  meaning  kind  in  chilly  winds  that  blow  ; 
Just  hope,  and  hope,  and  hope,  until  you  braver 

grow. 

Dear  restless  heart,  be  still ;  don't  struggle  to  be 

free; 
God's  life  is  in  your  life,  to  Him  you  may  not  flee  ; 

172 


Just  pray,  and  pray,  and  pray,  till  you  have  faith 
to  see.  —  Edith  IVillis  Linn. 


"ly'EEP  faith  in  the  love  that  blesses  men 

As  the  sunshine  does  the  sod. 
Let  us  do  our  best  and  trust  the  rest 
To  the  father  heart  of  God. 

—  Eben  E.  Rexford. 

"  A  LL  the  days  !  "  Who  does  not  know  how 
day  differs  from  day,  even  in  a  life  of  fairly 
even  tenor  ?  Who  does  not  feel  the  differences 
of  the  day's  surfaces,  and  see  the  varieties  of  these 
colors  ?  From  the  golden  sunlight  of  a  day  of 
joy  to  the  blackness  of  a  day  of  woe,  through 
all  gradations  the  scale  runs  as  we  journey  on. 
From  the  grass  of  the  meadow  to  the  miry  clay 
of  the  marsh,  to  the  hot  dust  of  the  level  road,  to 
the  flints  of  the  steep  ascent,  to  the  waters  of  the 
cold  river,  varies  the  surface.  And  the  great 
Companion  knows  it  all.  And  He  breaks  up  the 
great  promise  of  the  Presence  to  adjust  it  to  every 
detail  of  our  need.  "  I  with  you  am,  all  the  days, 
and  all  day  long,  even  unto  the  end." 

—  H.  a  G.  Moule. 


/^~^OD  smiles  as  He  has  always  smiled; 

Ere  suns  and  moon  could  wax  and  wane, 

Ere  stars  were  thundergirt,  or  piled 

The  heavens,  God  thought  on  me  His  child ; 

Ordained  a  life  for  me,  arrayed 

Its  circumstances,  every  one 

To  the  minutest.  n  7    .  n 

—  Robert  Browning. 

/^UR  resting  and  our  waiting,  and  our  plodding 

on  the  way. 
With  the  sunshine  of  the  past  casting  darkness  on 

to-day. 
With  no  caring  for  the  future,  while  the  heartache 

holds  us  fast. 
With  no  thought  for  any  pleasure  —  ah  !   'tis  well 

these  cannot  last. 

For   the    shadow    always    lifts,    and    the    sunlight 

glows  again  ; 
There  are  sudden  gleams  of  brightness,  sweet,  clear 

shining  after  rain  ; 

*ki«  ^^  *t*  *1*  »t*  »|> 

^^  ^^  *y*  'j^  *j*  *^ 

Life  must  have  its  sometime  sorrow,  but  the  years 

that  drift  along 
Touch  the  minor  chords  but   seldom ;    there   are 

spaces  blithe  with  song. 

174 


Sometimes  we  must  face  the  shadows  where  the 

wind  blows  keen  and  cold, 
But  the  shadow  fades  the  dawning,  and  the  east  is 

flecked  with  gold. 

—  Margaret  Sangster. 


COMETIMES  I  think  that  sorrows  past 

A  brighter  message  leave  behind 
Than  joys,  which  often  shadows  cast, 
Though  seeming  fair  and  only  kind. 

For  clearer  after  griefs  sad  rain 

The  sunset  ray,  and  rainbow  gleam. 

And  hope  which  bringeth  cease  of  pain. 
Than  passing  glint  of  joy's  fleet  beam. 

The  darkness  bringeth  quiet  rest, 
A  sense  of  God's  omnipotence. 

As  richest  verdure  groweth  best 

When  dripping  clouds  obscure  the  sun. 

Sometime,  I  think,  we'll  understand 

That  Love's  own  hand  doth  lead  alway, 

And  though  denying.  His  command 

Brings  strength  and  cheer  for  every  day. 

—  Irma  T.  "Jones. 


T^HE  Master  Hand  hath  felt  the  tender  need 

Of  waking  all  the  silent  chords  to  life. 
O'er  every  quivering  nerve  sweet  music  steals 

With  all  the  harmonies  of  Heaven  rife ; 
And  sweeter  grows  the  melody  each  year, 

Untouched  by  joyless  notes  from  out  the  past, 
Pure  happiness  hath  crowned  the  soul  with  love, 
God's  wondrous  peace  hath  won  the  heart   at 
last.  —  Gertrude  Wheelock. 


T  ET  us  lay  hold  of  Sorrow.  Let  us  not  be  afraid 
of  it,  for  when  grasped  firmly,  like  the  nettle, 
it  never  stings.  The  life  that  has  not  known  and 
accepted  sorrow  is  strangely  crude  and  untaught. 
It  can  neither  help  nor  teach,  for  it  has  never 
learned.  The  life  that  has  spurned  the  lesson  of 
sorrow,  or  failed  to  read  it  aright,  is  cold  and  hard  ; 
but  the  life  that  has  been  disciplined  by  sorrow  is 
courageous,  and  full  of  holy  and  gentle  love.  With- 
out sorrow  life  glares.  It  has  no  half-tones  nor 
merciful  shadows.  Disappointment,  in  life,  is  in- 
evitable. Pain  is  the  common  lot  of  humanity. 
Sharp  sorrow,  at  one  time  or  another,  will  come  to 
each  of  us,  if  indeed  it  has  not  already  come.  But 
this  same  Sorrow  is  a  gentle  teacher  and  reveals 

176 


many    things    that    would    otherwise    be    hard    to 
understand.  —  Anna  Robertson  Brown. 


"DEYOND  time's  troubled  stream, 

Beyond    the   chilling  waves   of   death's    dark 


Beyond  life's  lowering  clouds  and  fitful  gleams, 
Its  dark  realities  and  fleeting  dreams  — 
A  beautiful  forever. 


TT  is  true 

That  we  have  wept.      But  O    this   thread   of 
gold. 
We  would  not  have  it  tarnish  ;   let  us  turn 
Oft  and  look  back  upon  this  wondrous  web, 
And  when  it  shineth  sometimes  we  shall  know 
That  memory  is  possession.         —  y*?^"  Ingelow. 


COiMETHING  beyond  !    Though  now  with  joy 

unfound. 
The  life-task  falleth  from  the  weary  hand. 
Be  brave,  be  patient !   in  the  fair  Beyond 
Thou'lt  understand. 

177 


Something  beyond  !     Ah,  if  it  were  not  so, 
Darker  would  be  thy  face,  O  brief  to-day  ! 
Earthward  we'd  bow  beneath  life's  smiting  woe. 
Powerless  to  pray. 

Something  beyond  !    The  immortal  morning  stands 

Above  the  night  clear  shines  her  prescient  brow ; 

The  pendulous  star  in  her  transfigured  hands 

Lights  up  the  Now. 

—  Mary  Clemner, 


T'VE  nearly  passed  the  shadows  and  the  sorrows 

here  below ; 
A  little  while  —  a  little  while,  and   He  will  come, 

I  know. 
And  take  me  to  the  glory  that  I  think  is  very  near. 
When  I  shall  see  Him  face  to  face  and  His  kind 

welcome  hear. 

—  Frances  R.  Havergal. 


A  T  the  best,  we,  like  our  fathers,  are  only 
dwellers  in  tents.  Here  and  there  —  by 
some  sweet  well,  under  some  spreading  tree,  on 
some  green  spot  —  we  linger  for  a  time ;  but  the 
evening  comes  at  last,  the  stars  come  out,  the  en- 
campment is  broken  up,  and  we  must  move  away. 

178 


And  very  soon  we  shall  have  made  our  last  stay  of 
all ;  the  sky  will  flush  with  the  crimson  of  its  last 
sunset ;  the  last  long  shadows  of  the  twilight  will 
lengthen  round  us ;  the  last  farewell  will  be  sighed 
forth  from  weary  lips.  After  that  our  tent  will  be 
moved  no  longer ;  for  then  we  hope  that  it  will  be 
pitched,  for  the  last  time,  under  the  walls  of  the 
heavenly  city,  and  the  sun  shall  go  down  on  us 
no  more.  —  Canon  Farrar. 


A   LITTLE   WHILE 

A    LITTLE  while  more  of  the  sunshine, 
A  few  dashes  more  of  the  rain, 
A  few  draughts  more  of  sweet  pleasure, 
A  little  communing  with  pain. 

A  springtime,  perhaps,  and  a  summer, 

A  harvest  to  sow  and  to  reap, 
A  few  more  rainbows  of  promise, 

A  few  more  tears  to  weep. 

A  Bethel  of  rapturous  vision, 

A  desert  of  pain  to  cross  j 
A  little  more  bliss  to  beguile  us, 

A  little  more  sorrow  and  loss. 
179 


A  little  more  toilsome  climbing, 

A  little  of  restful  delight, 
And  we  all  shall  be  walking  together 

In  the  country  beyond  our  sight. 

And  brother  shall  meet  again  brother, 
On  those  far,  undiscovered  plains  ; 

Shall  we  hate,  then,  or  love  each  other, 
The  little  while  that  remains  ? 

—  Luella  Clark. 

A   SONG   OF   VICTORY 

J  THANK  Thee,  O  my  Father, 

For  the  sunshine  and  the  rain, 
For  the  beauty  and  the  pleasure. 

For  the  weariness  and  pain. 

For  the  hours  of  sorrow  brought  me 

Knowledge  of  a  joy  divine ; 
And  I  learned,  through  pain  and  weakness. 

That  the  strength  of  God  is  mine. 

And  the  burning,  sun-scorched  pathway, 
That  compelled  me  to  the  shade. 

Led  me  to  the  crystal  fountain 

That  amid  the  shadows  played. 

******* 
i8o 


And  I  learned  amid  the  darkness 

By  the  spirit's  sight  to  see, 
Learned  that  angel  hosts  were  ready 

In  my  need  to  come  to  me. 

Learned  to  welcome  pain  and  trials, 
Wings  to  bear  my  soul  above. 

Learned  to  know  that  round  about  me 
Are  the  arms  of  Changeless  Love. 

—  Ida  L.  Lewh. 


i8i 


VIII 


i83 


We  go, 
Led  by  His  shielding  hand,  and  know 
He  will  not  make, 
Except  for  Love's  sweet  sake, 

A  single  day 
Shadowed  along  life's  bitter  way. 
When  it  is  night 
We  rest  in  this  — He  leadeth  toward  the  light. 

—  George  Klingle. 


184 


HYMN    OF   TRUST 

/^  LOVE  Divine,  that  stooped  to  share 

Our  sharpest  pang,  our  bitterest  tear. 
On  thee  we  cast  each  earth-born  care. 
We  smile  at  pain  while  Thou  art  near ! 

Though  long  the  weary  way  we  tread. 
And  sorrow  crown  each  lingering  year. 

No  path  we  shun,  no  darkness  dread, 

Our  hearts  still  whispering.  Thou  art  near. 

When  drooping  pleasure  turns  to  grief, 
And  trembling  faith  is  changed  to  fear. 

The  murmuring  wind,  the  quivering  leaf, 
Shall  softly  tell  us,  Thou  art  near ! 

On  Thee  we  fling  our  burdening  woe, 

O  Love  Divine,  forever  dear, 
Content  to  suffer  while  we  know. 

Living  and  dying,  Thou  art  near  ! 

—  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


T  JNTRODDEN  lies  the  pathway 

Of  the  days  that  are  to  be, 
And  I  glance,  half-questioning,  onward, 

For  this  way  is  new  to  me. 
Perchance  I  note  some  waymarks 

Which  the  former  journey  bore. 
But,  after  all,  it's  a  strange,  new  place, 

Where  I  have  not  walked  before. 

For  a  dim  and  veiled  future 

Stretches  out  beyond  my  sight. 
And  only  one  day's  march  at  a  time 

Can  show  the  dark  or  bright. 
There  may  be  thorns  by  the  wayside 

To  pierce  my  pilgrim  feet. 
Or  my  eager  hands  shall  gather 

Some  flowers  rarely  sweet. 

There  may  be  toils  and  shadows 

I  have  not  thought  to  see. 
Or  a  sunnier  path  than  e'er  I  trod 

May  be  awaiting  me. 
But  I'll  press  calmly  forward. 

For  this  one  thing  I  know. 
The  Guide  who  led  in  former  days 

Still  at  my  side  will  go.  — Anon. 

1 86 


T  SEE  not  a  step  before  me 

As  I  tread  the  days  of  the  year, 

But  the  past  is  still  in  God's  keeping, 
The  future  His  mercy  shall  clear; 

And  what  looks  dark  in  the  distance 
May  brighten  as  I  draw  near. 

It  may  be  that  there  is  waiting 

For  the  coming  of  my  feet 
Some  gift  of  such  rare  blessedness, 

Some  joy  so  strangely  sweet 
That  my  lips  can  only  tremble 

With  the  thanks  I  cannot  speak. 

Oh,  restful,  blissful  ignorance  ! 

'Tis  blessed  not  to  know ; 
It  keeps  me  quiet  in  those  arms 

Which  will  not  let  me  go. 
And  hushes  my  soul  to  rest 

On  the  bosom  which  loves  me  so. 

So  I  go  on,  not  knowing ; 
I  would  not  if  I  might ; 
I  would  rather  walk  in  the  dark  with  God 

Than  go  alone  in  the  light  -, 
I  would  rather  walk  with  Him  by  faith. 
Than  walk  alone  by  sight. 

—  M.  G.  Brainard. 
187 


J^  IS   fruitless  for  mankind 
To  fret  themselves  with  what  concerns  them  notj 
They  are  no  use  that  way  ;  they  should  lie  down 
Content,  as  God  has  made  them,  nor  go  mad 
In  thriveless  cares  to  better  what  is  ill. 

—  Robert  Browning. 


npAKE    thy    self-denials    gayly    and    cheerfully, 
and  let  the  sunshine  of  thy  gladness  fall  on 
dark  things  and  bright  alike. 

—  'James  Freeman  Clarke. 


/CHRISTIANITY  wants    nothing  so  much    as 
sunny  people.  _  ^^^^^  Drummond. 


A  TRUE  and  gentle  cheerfulness  is  love  in 
society,  holding  sweet  intercourse  with  those 
around  it.  It  is  considerateness;  it  is  tenderness 
of  feeling ;  it  is  promptitude  of  sympathy.  It  is 
love  in  all  its  depths  and  in  all  its  deHcacy.  It  is 
everything  included  in  that  matchless  grace. 

—  The  Gentleness  of  Christ. 
i88 


(~^  OD'S  love  runneth  faster  than  our  feet 

^^    To  meet  us  stealing  back  to  Him  and  peace, 

And  kisses  dumb  our  shame.     Edwin  Arnold. 


TF  I  am  asked  what  is  the  remedy  for  the  deeper 
sorrows  of  the  human  heart  —  what  a  man 
should  chiefly  look  to  as  the  power  that  is  to  enable 
him  manfully  to  confront  his  afflictions  —  I  must 
point  to  something  which  in  a  well-known  hymn 
is  called  "  The  Old,  Old  Story,"  told  of  in  an  old, 
old  Book,  and  taught  with  an  old,  old  teachings 
which  is  the  greatest  and  best  gift  ever  given  to 
mankind.  _  Gladstone. 


L 


ET   us  turn  to  our  Father  in  all   our   misfor- 
tunes ;     let    us    sink   into    that    tender   Bosom^ 
where  nothing  can  fail  us ;  let  us  rejoice  in  hope. 

—  Fen  e  Ion. 

T^HE  little,  sharp  vexations. 

And  the  briers  that  catch  and  fret, 
Why  not  take  to  the  Helper 

Who  has  never  failed  us  yet  ? 
Tell  Him  about  the  heartache. 
And  tell  Him  the  longings,  too; 
189 


Tell  Him  the  baffled  purpose 

When  we  scarce  knew  what  to  do ; 

Then  leaving  all  our  weakness 
With  One  divinely  strong, 

Forget  that  we  bore  the  burden, 
And  carry  away  the  song. 

—  Margaret  Sangster. 


T   LIFT  to  Thee  this  burdened  heart  of  mine, 

Filled  with  the  shadows  of  the  deepening  night ; 
Thou  floodest  me  with  rays  of  love  divine, 
And  darkness  flees  from  me,  and  all  is  light. 

—  Frances  Coan  Percy. 

TLJOPE  and  pray — trust  always. 

—  yohn  G.  IVhittier. 

/^H,  surely  who  will  guide 
The  bird  at  eventide, 
Into  her  nest. 
Will  take  me  when  life's  day 
Shall  fade  in  twilight  gray. 
Back  to  His  breast. 

—  yul'ia  Anna   Wolcott. 
190 


A  ND  so  beside  the  Silent  Sea 
I  wait  the  muffled  oar ; 
No  harm  from  Him  can  come  to  me 
On  ocean  or  on  shore. 

I  know  not  where  His  islands  lift 

Their  fronded  palms  in  air; 
I  only  know  I  cannot  drift 

Beyond  His  love  and  care. 

— John    Greenleaf  Whitt'ier. 

A 1  rHAT  is  a  rainbow  but  just  clouds  and  every- 
day sunshine,  far  enough  away  to  be  mar- 
vellously beautiful  ?  Sometime  we  may  see  many 
things  that  seem  prosaically  common  and  near  at 
hand  now,  even  thus  glorified.  _  ^y^^,^  ^^^^^^_ 


T  AM  so  glad  !     It  is  such  rest  to  know 

That  Thou  hast  ordered  and  appointed  all, 
And  will  yet  order  and  appoint  my  lot. 
For  though  so  much  I  cannot  understand, 
And  would  not  choose,  has  been  and  yet  may  be, 
Thou  chooseth.  Thou  performest,  Thou,  my  Lord. 
This  is  enough  for  me. 

—  Frances  R.  Haver  gal. 
191 


T^EAR  child,  dost  feel  too  sad  to  pray? 

Then  clasp  God's  hand. 
You've  but  to  reach  a  wee,  wee  way, 
Since  He's  been  waiting  for  you  aye; 
He's  always  known  you'd  need,  this  day^ 
To  clasp  His  hand. 

—  Helen  Eldridge. 

Down  in  the  shadowed  valley 

We  sometimes  grope  in  vain ; 
But  to  the  soul  ascending 

God's  purposes  are  plain. 
And  high  up  on  the  summits 

The  lofty  vision  scans 
The  mighty  view  unfolding — 

The  network  of  God's  plans. 

—  Western  Field. 


/^^OD'S  promises  are  all  lamps  to  light  up  dark 
places  ;   and  I  know  of  no  brighter  one  than 
this  :  "  As  thy  days  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

But  maybe  you  are  already  in  the  long,  dark 
passageway.  Or  possibly  the  valley  through  which 
your  steps  are  leading  is  a  very  dark  and  shadowed 
one.     Then  gladly  I  bid  you  look  up  and  catch 

192 


some  of  the  light  which  God  sheds  down  from  this 
blessed  assurance. 

"  When  the  sun  withdraws  its  light, 
Lo  !   the  stars  of  God  are  there  ; 
Present  host,  unseen  till  night  — 
Matchless,  countless,  silent,  fair." 

If  we  never  had  nights,  we  could  never  see  the 
stars.  And  so  if  you  and  I  never  had  any  trouble, 
we  could  never  enjoy  such  a  promise  as  this  of 
which  we  have  written.  We  do  not  love  nights, 
but  we  do  love  the  stars.  We  do  not  love  sorrow 
and  trouble,  but  we  do  bless  God  for  sustaining 
grace.  We  do  not  love  weakness,  but  we  rejoice 
in  such  promises  of  God  as  will  uphold  us  when 
weakness  comes.  _  q^  b.  F.  Hallock. 

/^OD  can  overrule  even  a  great  mistake  to  the 
chastening    and     therefore    the    bettering    of 
character.  —  Jnon. 

T^HE  little  cares  that  fretted  me, 

I  lost  them  yesterday 
Among  the  fields  above  the  sea, 
Among  the  winds  at  play, 
193 


Among  the  lowing  of  the  herds, 

The  rustling  of  the  trees, 
Among  the  singing  of  the  birds, 

The  humming  of  the  bees. 

The  foolish  fears  of  what  might  happen, 

I  cast  them  all  away, 
Among  the  clover-scented  grass. 

Among  the  new-mown  hay. 
Among  the  hushing  of  the  corn. 

Where  drowsy  poppies  nod. 
Where  ill  thoughts  die  and  good  are  born. 

Out  in  the  fields  with  God.         — Anon. 


C~\  REST  so  true,  so  sweet ! 

Would    it    were    shared    by  all    the    weary 
world  ! 
'Neath  shadowing  banner  of  the  Master's  pierced 

feet, 
Then  lean  our  love  upon  His  boundless  breast, 
And  know  God's  rest ! 

—  F.  R.  Haver  gal. 
194 


T  DO  not  ask,  O  Lord,  that  life  may  be 

A  pleasant  road ; 
I  do  not  ask  that  Thou  wouldst  take  from  me 

Aught  of  its  load. 

I  do  not  ask  that  flowers  should  always  spring 

Beneath  my  feet ; 
I  know  too  well  the  poison  and  the  sting* 

Of  things  too  sweet. 

For  one  thing  only.  Lord,  dear  Lord,  I  plead  : 

Lead  me  aright. 
Though  strength   should   falter   and   though  heart 
should  bleed. 

Through  peace  to  light. 

I  do  not  ask,  O  Lord,  that  Thou  shouldst  shed 

Full  radiance  here  ; 
Give  but  a  ray  of  peace,  that  I  may  tread 

Without  a  fear. 

I  do  not  ask  my  cross  to  understand, 

My  way  to  see  ; 
Better  in  darkness  just  to  feel  Thy  hand, 

And  follow  Thee. 
195 


Joy  is  like  restless  day  ;  but  peace  divine 

Like  quiet  night ; 
Lead  me,  O  Lord,  till  perfect  day  shall  shine, 

Through  peace  to  light  ! 

—  Adelaide  A.  Procter. 

OO  faith  is  strong 

Only  when  we  are  strong,  shrinks  when  we 
shrink. 
It  comes  when  music  stirs  us,  and  the  chords, 
Moving  on  some  grand  climax,  shake  our  souls 
With  influx  new,  that  makes  new  energies. 
It  comes  in  swellings  of  the  heart  and  tears 
That  rise  at  noble  and  at  gentle  deeds. 
It  comes  in  moments  of  heroic  love, 
Unjealous  joy  in  joy  not  made  for  us  ; 
In  conscious  triumph  of  the  good  within. 
Making  us  worship  goodness  that  rebukes. 

Even  our  failures  are  a  prophecy. 
Even  our  yearnings  and  our  bitter  tears 
After  that  fair  and  true  we  cannot  grasp. 
Presentiment  of  better  things  on  earth 
Sweeps  in  with  every  force  that  stirs  our  souls 
To  admiration,  self-renouncing  love. 

—  George  Eliot, 
196 


TTOPE,  child,  to-morrow  and  to-morrow  still, 
And  every  morrow  hope  — 

Trust  while  you  live.  —  Victor  Hugo. 


TO-DAY 

T  WILL  not  look  along  the  years 
And  try  to  trace  my  future  way,  — 

I  only  need  to  see  my  path 
For  this  one  day. 

O  Thou  who  art  my  life,  my  hope. 

Who  art  each  weak  heart's  strength  and  stay. 
Help  me  to  live  within  the  line 

That  bounds  to-day. 

Then  loving  with  Thy  patient  love 
That  waits  to  lift  and  heal  alway. 

My  heart  can  hold  no  thought,  no  wish. 
Beyond  to-day.  — Mary  Frances  Butts. 


•THRUST  Him  implicitly,  submit  to  Him  cheer- 

fully,  and  you  will  find  that  all  shall  be  well  ; 

that  more  grace  will  be  given  you  ;  that  the  heavier 

the  trial  the  larger  will  be  the  blessed  measure  of 

197 


the  strength.  The  Shepherd  is  leading  you  in  the 
right  way  to  His  own  blessed  fold.  Leave  it  all 
to  Him.  —  Alexander  McKenzie. 

r^OD\  Thou  art  Love!     I  build  my  faith  on 
that.  —  Robert  Browning. 


JUST   FOR   TO-DAY 

T   ORD,  for  to-morrow  and  its  needs 

I  do  not  pray ; 
Keep  me,  my  God,  from  stain  of  sin 

Just  for  to-day. 
Let  me  both  diligently  work 

And  duly  pray  ; 
Let  me  be  kind  in  word  and  deed 

Just  for  to-day. 
Let  me  be  slow  to  do  my  will, 

Prompt  to  obey  ; 
Help  me  to  sacrifice  myself 

Just  for  to-day. 
Let  me  no  wrong  or  idle  word 

Unthinkingly  say  ; 
Set  Thou  a  seal  upon  my  lips 

Just  for  to-day. 
198 


Let  me  in  season,  Lord,  be  grave, 

In  season  gay  ; 
Let  me  be  faithful  to  Thy  grace 

Just  for  to-day. 
Lord,  for  to-morrow  and  its  needs 

I  do  not  pray  ; 
But  keep  me,  guide  me,  love  me.  Lord, 

Just  for  to-day. 

—  Samuel  Wilberforce. 


A   SUN-DAY    HYMN 

T    ORD  of  all  being!   throned  afar, 

Thy  glory  flames  from  sun  and  star ; 
Centre  and  soul  of  every  sphere. 
Yet  to  each  living  heart  how^  near ! 

Sun  of  our  life,  thy  quickening  ray 
Sheds  on  our  path  the  glow  of  day  ; 
Star  of  our  hope,  thy  softened  light 
Cheers  the  long  watches  of  the  night. 

Our  midnight  is  thy  smile  withdrawn  ; 
Our  noontide  is  thy  gracious  dawn  ; 
Our  rainbow  arch  thy  mercy's  sign  ; 
All,  save  the  clouds  of  sin,  are  thine! 
199 


Lord  of  all  life,  below,  above. 

Whose  light  is  truth,  whose  warmth  is  love, 

Before  thy  ever  blazing  throne 

We  ask  no  lustre  of  our  own. 

Grant  us  thy  truth  to  make  us  free. 
And  kindling  hearts  that  burn  for  thee, 
Till  all  thy  living  altars  claim 
One  holy  light,  one  heavenly  flame. 

—  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


HTHE  summer  day  is  drawing  to  a  close, 

But  Thou  wast  with  us  as  when  morning  rose ; 
Be  with  us  still,  to  pardon  and  to  bless. 
Thou  Son  of  love,  and  Lord  of  righteousness. 

The  evening  shadows  gather  round  us  now. 
But  shine  Thou  on  us  as  we  humbly  bow  ; 
Thou  art  the  Light  that  can  no  shadow  cast. 
Unchanging  in  the  future  as  the  past. 

And  when  the   stars   come   forth  we'll   think   of 

Thee, 
Creator  of  the  starlit  canopy  ; 
The  stars  are  Thine  and  Thou  ordainest  them 
As  gems  in  Thy  resplendent  diadem ! 

200 


The  summer  day  must  end,  the  shadows  fall. 
The  stars  appear,  and  Thou  art  over  all ; 
Shine  Thou  in  us,  as  well  as  on  us,  Lord  ! 
Then  shall  we  be  with  Thee  in  sweet  accord. 

Give  us  to  shine  with  Thy  imparted  light, 
As  children  of  the  day,  and  not  of  night ; 
And  when  all  earthly  lights  shall  fade  away, 
We'll  find  in  Thee  our  never-fading  day. 

—  Dawson  Burns. 


TT  is  the  supreme  privilege  of  life  to  come  into 
personal  relations  with  Jesus  Christ.  To  have 
Him  as  your  Friend  sanctifies  friendship  ;  to  have 
Him  as  your  Guide  gives  assurance  to  the  heart ; 
to  have  Him  as  your  Example  quickens  an  ambi- 
tion to  reproduce  the  Pattern  Life  ;  to  have  Him  as 
your  Saviour  comforts  the  soul,  and  admits  you 
into  the  enjoyment  of  the  heritage  of  light,  peace, 
and  love  that  belongs  to  all  who  have  been  re- 
deemed, not  with  corruptible  things,  but  with  the 
precious  blood  of  Christ. 

But  this  privilege  is  secured  through  submission 
to  the  mastery  of  Jesus,  and  obedience  to  His  will. 
There  can  be  no  climbing  to  the  heights  without 
the  abandonment  of  the  lowlands.      If  one  would 

201 


stand  in  the  presence  of  the  King,  he  must  be 
worthy,  and  worthiness  comes  through  loyal  alle- 
giance. 

To  enjoy  this  high  privilege  in  its  fulness  it  is 
necessary  to  acknowledge  the  exaltation  of  Jesus  in 
all  the  relations  of  life.  There  must  be  honesty, 
uprightness,  unselfishness  in  business;  kindness, 
courtesy,  considerateness  in  social  life  ;  thoughtful- 
ness,  forbearance,  self-sacrifice  in  the  domestic  cir- 
cle ;  honor,  integrity,  fidelity  in  politics  ;  sincerity, 
tolerance,  fairness  in  the  intellectual  realm ;  chaste- 
ness,  refinement,  purity  of  imagination  ;  so  that  the 
heart  being  filled  with  goodness,  sympathy,  and 
Christian  love,  the  soul  may  be  at  peace,  and  the 
whole  life  be  under  the  gracious  supremacy  of  the 
spirit  of  Jesus  Christ.  _  ^^^^^,^  ^^^^j^^ 


'X'HY  will  not  mine  be  done.  Six  little  words, — 
all  very  brief,  but,  nevertheless,  wondrous 
words ;  for  never  yet  did  a  soul,  out  of  need,  look 
up  and  whisper  them,  but  that  straightway  in  re- 
sponse the  angels  came  to  minister. 

—  y.  L,  Spauldlng. 

202 


'X'HERE   is   nothing   so   clear  to  me  ever,  dear 

heart, 
As  that  strength  will  be  lent,  if  we  ask  it, 
To  bear  what  the  Lord  shall  have  sent. 
And  that  every  hard  duty  will  find  us 
With  strength  to  attempt,  and  indeed 
Overcome  it,  at  length. 
If  we  cling  to  the  Giver  of  strength. 
Nor  let  go,  when  the  weakest  we  feel, 
For  I'm  certain,  I  know,  that  the  weakest 
May  hold  to  God's  hand  with  a  grip. 
That  is  ever  unyielding  if  only  the  lip. 
Can  say,  "  Help  me,  O  Father !  " 
So  quickly  He  hears,  and  so  soon  is 
He  touched  by  our  need  and  our  tears. 

—  A.  A.  Hopkins. 

'T^HE    present    is   ours, — and    the  rest  —  that  is 

God's.      He  will  care  for  His  own  as  is  best, 

and  our  watching  is  worthless,  our  dread  is  in  vain. 

—  Anon. 


"pvO  not  look  forward  to  the  changes  and  chances 

of  this  life  in  fear;   rather  look  at  them  with 

full   hope  that,  as  they  arise,  God,  whose  you  arc, 

203 


will  deliver  you  out  of  them.  He  has  kept  you 
hitherto,  —  do  you  but  hold  fast  to  His  dear  hand, 
and  He  will  lead  you  safely  through  all  things. 
Do  not  look  forward  to  what  may  happen  to-mor- 
row, the  same  everlasting  Father  who  cares  for  you 
to-day  will  take  care  of  you  to-morrow,  and  every 

^^'  —  Francis  de  Sales. 


A  ND  let  the  morrow  rest 
In  His  beloved  hand  ; 
His  good  is  better  than  our  best, 

As  we  shall  understand, — 
If  trusting  Him  who  faileth  never, 
We  rest  on  Him,  to-day,  forever ! 

—  Frances  R.  Haver  gal. 


'\^7'ITHOUT  murmur,  uncomplaining. 

In  His  hand. 
Leave  whatever  things  thou  canst  not  — 

Understand.       _  ^^  ^_  Ravenbach. 


^^NE  of  the  secrets  of  a  happy,  beautiful  Hfe  is, 
to  live  one  day  at  a  time.     ^v   n    MiHgy 

204 


As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be. 
—  Deut.  33  :  25. 

This  daily  promise  \%  your  daily  blessing. 


CTRENGTH  for  the  day  is  all  that  we  need, 

As  there  will  never  be  a  to-morrow, 
For  to-morrow  will  be  but  another  day. 
With  its  measure  of  joy  and  of  sorrow. 

Then  why  be  forecasting  the  trials  of  life 
With  so  sad  and  so  grievous  persistence  ? 

Why  anxiously  wait  for  the  coming  of  ills 
That  never  may  have  an  existence  ? 

Far  better  to  trust  to  the  wisdom  and  love 

Of  the  Providence  ever  beside  us, 
With   no   anxious   thought   what   the    future    may 
bring. 

For  He  guides  all  events  that  betide  us. 

As  in  mercy  He  guides  every  bird  in  its  flight. 

And  gives  to  each  lily  its  beauty. 
He  will  surely  provide  for  our  every  need. 

If  we  trust  and  are  faithful  in  duty. 

—  Philip  Doddridge. 

205 


"MTOW,    Father,  —  now,    in    thy   dear    presence 
kneeling. 
Our  spirits  yearn  to  feel  thy  kindling  love ; 
Now  make  us  strong, — we  need  thy  deep  revealing 
Of  trust,  and  strength,  and  calmness  from  above. 

—  Samuel  Johnson. 


'X'HY  will  that  works  from  clod  to  star, 

That  stretches  the  bright  rainbow  bar, 
That  rules  the  land,  restrains  the  sea. 
That  perfect  will  be  done  in  me. 
So  shall  I  rest  from  pain  and  care, 
Be  safe  and  peaceful  everywhere. 

—  Mary  Frances  Butts. 


TUST  to  give  up,  and  rest 
^    All  on  a  Love  secure. 
Out  of  a  world  that's  hard  at  best. 
Looking  to  heaven  as  sure ; 
Ever  to  hope,  through  cloud  and  fear. 
In  darkest  night,  that  the  dawn  is  near; 
Just  to  wait  at  the  Master's  feet  — 
Surely,  now,  the  bitter  is  sweet. 

—  Henry  van  Dyke. 
206 


UNANSWERED  YET 

T  TNANSWERED  yet  —  the  prayers  your  lips 
have  pleaded 

In  agony  of  heart  these  many  years  ? 

Does  faith  begin  to  fail  ?   is  hope  departing  ? 

And  think  you  all  in  vain  those  falling  tears  ? 

Say  not  the  Father  hath  not  heard  your  prayer ; 

You  shall  have  your  desire  —  sometime,  some- 
where. 

Unanswered  yet  ?  though  when  you  first  presented 
This  one  petition  at  the  Father's  throne, 
It  seemed  you  could  not  wait  the  time  of  asking. 
So  urgent  was  your  heart  to  make  it  known  : 
Though   years    have    passed    since    then,    do    not 

despair. 
The    Lord   will    answer  you  —  sometime,    some- 
where. 

Unanswered  yet  ?  nay,  do  not  say  ungranted  ; 

Perhaps  your  part  is  not  yet  wholly  done ; 

The   work    began    when    first    your    prayer   was 

uttered, 
And  God  will  finish  what  He  has  begun  : 
If  you  will  keep  the  incense  burning  there. 
His  glory  you  shall  see  —  sometime,  somewhere. 

207 


Unanswered  yet  ?   faith  cannot  be  unanswered  — 
Her  feet  were  firmly  planted  on  the  Rock ; 
Amid  the  wildest  storms  she  stands  undaunted, 
Nor  quails  before  the  loudest  thunder  shock  — 
She  knows  Omnipotence  has  heard  her  prayer, 
And  cries,  "It  shall  be  done  —  sometime,  some- 
where." —  Mrs.  F.  a  Browning. 


GOD    KNOWS 

'yHROUGH  all  my  little  daily  cares  there  is 

One  thought  that  comfort  brings  whene'er  it 
comes. 
'Tis  this  :  "  God  knows."      He  knows 
Each  struggle  that  my  hard  heart  makes  to  bring 
My  will  to  His.      Often  when  night-time  comes, 
My  heart  is  full  of  tears,  because  the  good 
That  seemed  at  morn  so  easy  to  be  done 
Has  proved  so  hard ;  but  then  remembering 
That  a  kind  Father  is  my  judge,  I  say, 
"  He  knows."     And  so  I  lay  me  down,  with  trust 
That  His  good  hand  will  give  me  needed  strength 
To  better  do  His  work  in  coming  days. 

—  Jmn.  in  Epwortk  Herald, 
208 


IV /TY  position  has  come  to  this,  am  I  living  near 
my  Saviour  then  I  am  as  happy  as  the  day 
is  long,  and  as  light-hearted  as  a  child.  It  may  be 
that  I  have  plenty  of  annoyances,  but  they  don't 
trouble  me  when  His  presence  is  with  me.  Am  I 
downcast  and  worried,  then  I  am  away  from  God. 

—  "John  Kenneth  Mackenzie. 


OOME  murmur  when  their  sky  is  clear 

And  wholly  bright  to  view, 
If  one  small  speck  of  dark  appear 

In  their  great  heaven  of  blue. 
And  some  with  thankful  love  are  fill'd 

If  but  one  streak  of  light. 
One  ray  of  God's  good  mercy  gild 

The  darkness  of  their  night. 

In  palaces  are  hearts  that  ask, 

In  discontent  and  pride. 
Why  life  is  such  a  dreary  task 

And  all  good  things  denied. 
And  hearts  in  poorest  huts  admire 

How  love  has  in  their  aid 
(Love  that  not  ever  seems  to  tire) 

Such  rich  provision  made. 

—  R.  C.  French. 
209 


"tTAPPY  and   strong  and  brave  shall  we  be, — 
able  to  endure  all  things,  and  to  do  all  things, 
—  if  we  believe  that  every  day,  every  hour,  every 
moment  of  our  life  is  in  His  hands. 

—  Henry  van  Dyke. 

TTHOUGH  sad  my  day  that  lasts  so  long, 

At  evening  I  shall  have  a  song ; 
Though  dim  my  day  until  the  night, 
At  evening-time  there  shall  be  light. 

—  Christina  Rossetti. 


/'^OD  never  leaves  thee  in  the  dark. 

Slowly  the  dawn  on  unbelieving  eyes 
Breaketh  at  last. 

— yu/ia  C.  R.  Dorr. 


"D  E    the   day  weary,  or  be  the  day  long,  —  at 
last  it  ringeth  the  even-song. 


T  TNDER  the  snows  — 
The  rose ! 
And  the  vales  sing  joy  to  the  misty  hills. 
And  the  winds  ripple  it  down  the  rills  j 

210 


And  the  far  stars  answer  the  song  that  swells 
With  all  the  music  of  all  the  bells  ! 

Fronting  the  night 

The  light.  —  Frank  Stanton. 


THE    PRICE 

"POR  the  joy  set  before  thee 

The  cross. 
For  the  gain  that  comes  after, 

The  loss. 
For  the  morning  that  smileth, 

The  night. 
For  the  peace  of  the  victor, 

The  fight. 

For  the  white  rose  of  goodness, 

The  thorn. 
For  the  spirit's  deep  wisdom. 

Men's  scorn. 
For  the  sunshine  of  gladness, 

The  rain. 
For  the  fruit  of  God's  pruning, 

The  pain. 

21  I 


For  the  clear  bells  of  triumph, 

A  knell. 
For  the  sweet  kiss  of  meeting, 

Farewell. 
For  the  height  of  the  mountain, 

The  steep. 
For  the  waking  in  heaven, 

Death's  sleep. 

—  Mary  Frances  Butts. 


212 


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